


Unexpected Explorations

by MissMarissa



Series: Unexpected Explorations 'Verse [1]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: (That needs to be a tag), Aftercare, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Play, Anal Sex, Anti-50 shades of grey, BDSM, BDSM Ettiquette, BDSM Party, BDSM Scene Negotiation, Because fuck that book, Bellamy Talks Dirty, Bellamy/Roan action, Bondage, Bondage and Discipline, Canon Bisexual Character, Classy Anal Sex, Consensual, Cunnilingus, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Domme!Clarke, Double Penetration, Exhibitionism, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Group Sex, Kink Negotiation, Knifeplay, LOTS OF TAGS because lots happens, M/M, Mother-Daughter Relationships, Multi, Multiple Orgasms, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Orgy, Phone Sex, Power Exchange, Predicament Bondage, Rimming, Risk Aware Consensual Kink, Rope Bondage, Rough Sex, Self-Discovery, Semi-Public Sex, Sensation Play, Sexting, Single Parent Clarke, Smut, Sub!Clarke, Subspace, Suspension Bondage, Threesome - F/M/M, boanlarke, but you know, dom!bellamy, lucky pierre, sub!bellamy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-16
Updated: 2016-11-04
Packaged: 2018-03-23 04:43:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 57
Words: 329,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3754966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissMarissa/pseuds/MissMarissa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke hasn't seen him in years. Now they'll reconnect in a way she never would have expected... Clarke is new to this avenue of pleasure, Bellamy isn't. Who better to guide her through this journey of self-discovery?  And maybe Bellamy has a few things to learn about himself. (Modern AU) </p>
<p>Or, Bellamy and Clarke's exploration into a unique kind of relationship, based on deep trust and respect.<br/></p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p> </p>
  <p>    <b>Winner of Best WIP in the 2016 Bellarke Fanfiction Awards</b><br/></p>
</div><br/>The smut starts tame and kink builds gradually. This is all a gentle introduction to an oft-misunderstood lifestyle, depicted through a healthy, trust-based, loving relationship.<p>Think it's not your thing?  Give it a shot - you might be surprised!<br/>I've been told to start marketing this as the Anti-50 Shades of Grey. That is accurate.<br/><br/><b>Ch. 57: I know you've thought about it</b><br/>"So, have you given any thought to Roan's... suggestion?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Introductions

**Author's Note:**

> This first chapter is mostly just setup, kind of Clarke's introduction to a new group of people in her journey of self-discovery. 
> 
> This story is that of a blossoming Dom/sub relationship. It's built on a foundation of deep respect and unwavering trust, and most of all, love. 
> 
> Oh, and I own nothing recognizable... Only the plot and original characters are mine.
> 
>  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  
> 
> **Unexpected Explorations** won **Best WIP** in the 2016 Bellarke Fanfiction Awards!  
>   
> 
> I had two other works nominated:  
> \- Best Smut Oneshot for [this is as good a place to fall as any](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6626929)  
>  **(Runner-up!)**  
>  \- Winner of **Best Smut Drabble** for **[You're Tense, Clarke](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5656969/chapters/13029469)**  
>  I also came away with **Best Smut Author** , so THANK YOU all so much for your support and votes!  
> Here's the [full list of nominees](http://bellarkefanfictionawards.tumblr.com/post/147720433667/wow-almost-80-people-filled-out-nomination-forms). 
> 
> [Voting is over, but I'm leaving the links to the nominees up, as it's essentially a fandom-wide fic rec list, in case you're interested :)]

Alright, I'm doing this.

I found the information a while back on a "munch" that occurred regularly at a diner up the road from me. It took me a month to actually work up the courage to attend one.

I was beyond nervous as I walked through the parking lot. I didn't know what to expect. _Okay, this is a public place. They probably won't be dressed in assless chaps or dragging each other around on leashes. I don't think. Shit. Just normal people, like me._

I am buzzing with nervous energy as I walk toward the glass doors of the restaurant. As I place my fingers on the door handle, I have a sudden surge of anxiety and let go of the door.   _I can't fucking do this_. I turn on my heel and walk back to my car. I open up my car door and lean on the frame while taking a deep breath.

_What is your problem? Stop being a wimp. You're not someone who gets scared of shit like this. It's a bunch of strangers who are inherently as open minded as they come. Time to woman-up and do this. No more fucking around. You want this. You NEED this, and it's not going to happen unless you turn yourself around and walk your ass back in there._

With new resolve, I walk back to the restaurant. As I step into the lobby, I notice an approachable brunette with a warm, knowing smile on her face. "I remember changing my mind fifty times - do I go in or go home?"

I sheepishly return her smile, "That obvious, huh?"

"Maybe just to a kindred spirit. I'm Mandy." She smiles again, which immediately sets me at ease. "You're here for the munch?" She motions toward the group of a dozen or so (very normal-looking) people gathered around several pushed-together tables at the back of the restaurant. One man is animatedly telling some sort of story to the rest of the group. An outburst of laughter indicates that he must have reached the punch line.

I look back at Mandy, "I'm Clarke. I'm ridiculously nervous.” I make some sort of a noise between a huff and a chuckle.

Her face brightens as she tells me, “Don't worry about it. Come with me.”

I walk behind her toward the group. She greets everyone and introduces me. “Everyone, this is Clarke. She's new, so let's not scare her.” The group laughs and welcomes me in. Mandy offers me a chair next to hers, and I take a seat as people introduce themselves. After some nonspecific chatting, people begin to chat amongst themselves in smaller groups. I end up in a group with Mandy and two other people, who appear to be a couple. One of them, Talia, asks me to tell a little about myself.

“Well, I'm not sure where I'm supposed to begin. As Mandy told you, my name is Clarke, and this is all new to me, in terms of experience. I'm not really sure what you want to know.” I was honestly unsure how to answer this simple but vague prompt - did they want my life story? Was I supposed to give then a fake name? Was I supposed to tell them my darkest fantasies or something?

I smile nervously and glance around until I meet the gaze of a thirty-something man who speaks up with a warm smile. I recognize him as the story-teller from earlier. “Clarke. I'm Lucas. I'm glad you're here. Let's start with how you found us, and maybe what brought you here today. Are you interested in the lifestyle on a personal level? Doing research for a class? Start there.”

“Okay, that's easy enough,” I laughed. “I learned about this munch on a website, on the community calendar link, I think. It seemed casual enough, and I had availability in my own schedule, so I figured I'd come and check it out. I'm 'interested' on a personal level, I guess. I'm not practically experienced with BDSM. I mean, I know the basics from my own reading and research, like what the letters stand for, and what some of the terms are. I understand some of the psychology behind the lifestyle, from a class I took in college. I guess that class is probably what piqued my interest years ago, but this is the first time I'm pursuing this, like, in real life..." I've unconsciously started to fidget, unaware that I'm tapping my fingers loudly until I see Lucas glance at my hands. I stop abruptly, embarrassed. “Okay, I'm sorry, I'm rambling...”

Lucas shakes his head, giving me a reassuring smile. “No reason to be sorry.”

I huff out another laugh, “Okay. I'm still nervous as fuck right now!”

“What makes you nervous?” he asks.

“I guess everything?” I shrug my shoulders. “I grew up a 'good girl' who was basically told that sex is for dirty girls. You know, 'if it feels good, stop?' That sort of thing. So, sex and pleasure are things that I don't really talk a lot about. Out loud, anyway. I'm nervous that I'll be laughed out of the room because of my inexperienc

e.” I blink away tears that have welled up beyond my eyes before I continue, “This is all so overwhelming. I feel like I'm on the verge of experiencing a sexual awakening or something... Fuck, why am I about to fucking cry about this?!" I laugh while wiping away a few escaped tears.

Talia tilts her head thoughtfully as she speaks up, "Why not? You're opening up and letting yourself feel things, maybe for the first time. Crying is okay, sweetheart." Mandy puts a hand on my arm and agrees.

I learn a little about the individuals at the table. Lucas and Talia are in an exclusive D/s relationship. Lucas is the dominant, Talia is the submissive. Mandy describes herself as a “switch.” She is currently unattached, and is somewhat vague about whether she's looking for a play partner.

Lucas speaks again, “What is it you're looking for?”

I take a deep breath, pausing to think of my answer. “Guidance, really. I mean, the online forums answer a lot of questions, but I need more. More than I can get from just clicking from page to page. Does that make any sense?”

“It does,” Lucas replies with a warm laugh. “So, you've done some research. What do you know about your own tastes and preferences?”

“Well, I really feel like I just have theoretical preferences. I know what I fantasize about, and I know enough about myself to have an idea of what I am interested in exploring further.”

“Okay, then let's start there. _Theoretically,_ are you dominant or submissive? Or have you thought about that?”

“Submissive. Which is something that surprised me, because I never considered myself to be a 'submissive' person by nature. I learned that being submissive in the BDSM context is not the same as having a doormat for a personality. I used to think of myself as a controlling person, actually. I think that has been more circumstantial. A lot of things in my life require me to maintain tight control, make decisions based on my judgment. I realized that I feel suffocated by the constant responsibility. My sex life has been unfulfilled, because I haven't been able to just let go. Trying to be "in control" during sex takes the pleasure out of it for me. That much I've known since before I knew what BDSM even _was._ Unfortunately, my past sexual partners have had no clue what to do with that.”

I feel like I'm rambling again.

I hear Talia say to Lucas and Mandy, “We should introduce her to B.”

Lucas clears his throat. “I want to clarify, these meetings aren't really for matchmaking purposes, so I'm not trying to set you up with this person.” He studies my face for a few seconds before continuing. “That being said, I think there is someone you should meet. Just as another contact in our community. No pressure. He's actually out of town, but he'll be back for the next meeting.”

Mandy adds, “Yeah, B is a great guy. He's got a lot of experience, and he likes to teach. I think he'd like you.”

I ask, “Like, Bumble Bee?”

She laughs, “No, not bumble bee!”

Just then my phone buzzes. It is my reminder to leave for the case management meeting for one of my patients.

"Shit, I have to get going – it’s work. But I'd really like to continue this conversation!” I start gathering my things. I exchange contact info with the three of them before leaving the restaurant.

I feel like a weight has been lifted off my soul...


	2. What the ever living fuck is he doing here?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I know that voice. I know it anywhere.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Clarke is back, and anxious to meet the mysterious 'B' that Talia keeps raving about... You know who is, but Clarke couldn't be more shocked...

Two weeks later, I return to the restaurant and immediately spot the three friends I made last time.   As I sit down, Talia excitedly tells me that “B” is on his way, but will be late.

I have been in touch with Talia a few times since the last munch.  She texted me random details and updates about the mysterious “B” she is so adamant that I meet. I gathered that he does something at the history museum in town.  She also said several times that he was the embodiment of tall/dark/handsome, and a skilled speaker.

I'm engaged in conversation with Lucas about the changing face of healthcare when Talia calls out excitedly, "B! You made it!"  Lucas laughs and nods behind me.  Mandy nudges me with her elbow and I turn around in my seat to see the back of tall, dark-haired man being greeted by a woman not far from me.  I can see his head nod as he listens to whatever she has to say, and I feel a shiver run through me when I see his back and shoulder muscles ripple underneath his shirt. _Deep breaths. This is not a date, so keep it in your pants, Griffin._

Talia jumps from her seat and prances over to B, walks a circle around the person talking to him and stops to stand directly in front of him.  As he straightens up, she moves in to give him a tight hug, and he envelops her in his long arms.  “Oh, I missed you!” she exclaims.  He squeezes her tighter, as if to say he missed her too.  She breaks from the embrace, and takes a step back to look at his face.  That's when she sees me and something on her face clicks, as if she has suddenly remembered she was supposed to do something.  "OH!  Clarke is here, you know, the girl I was telling you about.  Remember?"

He replies amusedly, "Yes, Talia, I remember. I don't think I could forget."

_Fuck_

_Fuck. Fuck. Fuck._

_I know that voice. I know it anywhere._

_That voice - the one that talked me through panic attacks in college. The one that soothed my broken soul after the death of my father._

_That voice - the one that brought me back to reality when I got the news that a one night stand left me with a souvenir. The one that steadily guided me through the birth of my beautiful daughter._

_That voice - the one that broke my young heart when he told told me "We can only be friends."_

_The voice I left behind because I had to move on with my life. "May we meet again..."_

_What the ever living fuck is he doing here?_

I close my eyes as he turns around.  After a few seconds of silence, I open them again to find him staring at me, slack-jawed.  He furrows his brow then shakes his head, as if to verify reality. Finally, he speaks. "Clarke?"  It's more of a statement than a question.

_Fuck._

After several seconds of stunned silence, I finally choke out "B?! - Bell--" I stumble after one syllable.  "Really? Fuck--" Apparently I am unable to form

a coherent sentence.  "How was I supposed to know-“  Another pause.  “Goddammit Bellamy!"  I'm certain I look as exasperated as I feel.

The corner of his mouth lifts up to form that signature smirk that I know so well.  I take a deep breath and return it with a familiar grin of my own.

He won't break eye contact, and I am abruptly reminded that this was a thing with us: The power struggle that consumed us and was in some ways our undoing.

All at once, things start to make sense.  Neither one of us would back down from a fight.  I close my eyes as I feel a memory of one of our arguments.  I remember being able to  _feel_ the tension inside him build when I would push and push his buttons.  I remember calling him a control-freak.  I remember accusing him of wanting to control  _me._ I realize now how true that statement might be.  At the time, I was convinced that only weak women would let someone control them.  That was  _not_ me, and I realize now that must have frustrated him to no end. 

I look him thoughtfully, and he can see the gears turn in my head.  “Oh” is all I can say.  His smirk evolves into a predatory gaze that I have never before seen on his face.  I can hear my breath hitch and my heart starts to race.  We're in our own world, and I have no idea how long we've been checked out from the rest of the room. 

I snap out of it when I hear Talia murmur “Holy fuck.”

I take another deep breath.  “Yeah.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next: Bellamy's POV


	3. How incredibly delightful

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s actually her. Little Miss “don’t-you-fucking-try-to-control-ME-you-asshole.” In the flesh, right in front of me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bellamy's thoughts leading up to the reunion, and his reaction to Clarke's presence.

Talia.  Oh, sweet Talia.  Ever since my last sub moved to California last year, she has been trying desperately to set me up with someone.  I've been in no hurry.  Echo and I had an immensely successful D/s partnership that would probably still be intact if she still lived here.  She moved to further her career, for which I couldn’t fault her.  Neither of us had any interest in a long-distance relationship, so we parted ways amicably. 

Talia is particularly excited about someone she just met who is “new” to the lifestyle, and she “can just tell” that we are going to hit it off.  When I ask more about her, the only information she can give me is her name, Clarke, and that she is a self-declared submissive.  Pardon me if I have my doubts in Talia’s confidence based on such miniscule information.  Talia tells me that Clarke will be at the munch next week, and is excited to introduce us. 

I spend the next eight days thinking of another Clarke I once knew.  We thought fate brought us into each other’s lives during undergrad.  She became one of my closest friends in college.  She needed help that I could give her.  She had so much potential, but was deeply broken inside. 

As Clarke put herself back together, she and I became enmeshed with a group of codependent individuals, all of us knitted together by a common thread:  Lexa.   Dear god, Lexa...  Don’t get me started down that rabbit hole.  That whole situation was a goddamn clusterfuck.  There needs to be a support group for the survivors of that group.  Lexa taught Clarke that she was a “strong woman” who thrived on control.  She convinced Clarke that she could not afford to let others influence her.  In her view, getting close to people was dangerous.   _Love is weakness._   What a shitty motto. 

Clarke bought wholeheartedly into Lexa’s bullshit.  Meanwhile, she floundered under the weight of her responsibilities.  She had no idea what she needed, and I had no idea how to steer her back to the right path. 

I jokingly told her once that she ought to try being tied down so she could be “well and truly fucked.”  That earned me a slap to the face, but not before her breath hitched and her pupils dilated in obvious arousal (which she unsurprisingly denied). 

She was too resistant to submission (not that we explicitly discussed the subject) and I knew our relationship could never evolve past our deep friendship.  My friendship with her was too precious to throw away for something I knew would leave us both unfulfilled.  I needed the Dom/sub dynamic and she didn't give any indication that she would be... amenable to that kind of relationship.  I saw that my rejection broke her in a whole new way, but I couldn’t let either of us delude ourselves into thinking we had a chance beyond platonic love.  

Despite that knowledge, I have now become a man obsessed.  I need to know where Clarke is now.  I haven't seen or spoken to her in over two years.

 _May we meet again..._  I can’t get those last words out of my head. 

I am mildly concerned that Talia’s setup will be a bust.  Really, failure is inevitable, considering that there will be a constant comparison to my Clarke.  I start to wonder if I should contact my Clarke before meeting this new one.  I ultimately decide against it, as I really don’t have the time to devote to a maddening search for her. 

Finally, the day of the introduction is upon us. I walk into the restaurant and make the usual greetings.  Lydia accosts me as usual to engage in hilariously uncomfortable flirting.  We both know it goes nowhere, but there’s something delightful about that.  Next thing I know, Talia comes out of nowhere and launches herself into my arms for one of her death-squeeze hugs.  After she pulls away, she glances over my shoulder and her face lights up all over again.  She almost shouts, "OH!  Clarke is here, you know, the girl I was telling you about.  Remember?"  Like I could fucking forget. 

I turn around to introduce myself.  Fuck.  It’s actually her.  Little Miss “don’t-you-fucking-try-to-control- _ME_ -you-asshole.”  In the flesh, right in front of me. 

Her eyes are closed tight, and I know she's already figured out who I am.  She opens her eyes and I'm floored by the intensity.  I forgot how much her gaze affects me.  She freezes up and her entire body goes rigid. She looks panicked, and for a minute I think she might make a run for it.  Then she looks  _livid._

She spits out barely-intelligible words, and I can’t help but find it endearing.  She's hilariously upset that everyone in this circle calls me “B” instead of Bellamy.  I just give her a knowing smirk, which she returns with a grin that is truly her own.  

Fuck, she’s beautiful. 

As I stare her down, she refuses to back down from my scrutiny.  It’s almost like instinct between us, and I am momentarily worried she'll fall back into old habits.  But she’s here.  She knows she’s a submissive at heart.  She's so ready to explore this. I can feel it reeling off of her.  She  _has_ to be the one to look away first.  She  _has_  to surrender this to me. 

She closes her eyes.  My heart races as I recognize the significance of that action.  She doesn’t even know it yet, but she just surrendered. 

When she opens her eyes again, I can see her making the connections.  Why I shot her down.  Why I refused to yield to her stubborn bullshit.  I watch her put it all together and I feel an insatiable need for her.  I am ravenous.  She knows she’s my prey now.  Her breath hitches, and I can feel myself hardening.   _Fuck_.  I can tell that she is just as affected as me.  Her pupils are blown, her breaths come in pants.  As I drag my gaze lasciviously down her body, I can see her pulse pound in her neck.  Her pale skin flushes, and I see the pink color bloom all the way down to her breasts.  The rest of her is hidden by the table, but when she shifts in her seat and crosses one leg over the other, I know she realizes how fucking wet she is. 

 

I need to take her.  All of her.  Now. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up: Clarke goes to Bellamy's


	4. Welcome

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "After I pass through the door, he closes the door with a loud slam that causes me to turn and look at him. He looks downright predatory. If I didn’t already know this man inside and out, I would be terrified. Instead, I am unbelievably turned on."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little bit of history, time for Bellamy & Clarke to catch up a bit.  
> I decided to skip the conversation where he invites her to his place. They both know what they want and they aren't going to waste a bunch of time on coffee dates... They've known each other for over a decade. Let's not waste too much time on pleasantries. They still need to have a serious conversation about their proposed activities, so let's get on that.
> 
> [Clarke POV]

I punch Bellamy’s address in my GPS.  He lives about ten minutes from my own place.  When I moved to this part of town, I intentionally put 45 minutes distance between Lexa’s house and my new life.  If I could have gone farther without being impractical, I would have.  I told Bellamy I would be over at 7 PM.  He told me to come over immediately, but I told him I had a prior engagement.  I don’t, but he doesn’t know that.  Call it residual stubbornness.  I know that as soon as I walk through his door, he'll call the shots and I'll be under his control.  Making him wait for me is my way to assert some sort of control, even if it is only me who knows.  I like to think he's squirming and slightly annoyed with me right now.  I file those thoughts away for later analysis. 

As I drive to his house, I feel a sudden bout of anxiety.  What if Lexa is there?  That's a totally irrational thought, because there's no reason she would be there.  What if she knows where to find me?  He can’t tell her about this.  He can’t even tell her he saw me.  That needs to be established immediately.  I have worked too hard to repair my psyche after that woman steamrolled it.  I make a mental note to discuss this with him soon. 

I practically vibrate with excitement for the potential life change I'm about to make.  It's nerve-wracking enough to have made the decision to embrace this part of myself.  Then there's the fact that he may be the one to guide me through this journey.  We have such a complicated history, and I have to wonder if this is a bad idea. 

I take note of the neighborhood as I drive.  It’s nice.  I didn’t expect for him to choose a house in a neighborhood with such a suburban or domestic ambiance.  I don’t know what he does for a living anymore, but apparently it pays well enough to live in this subdivision.  I note that he doesn’t share walls with neighbors, so noise won’t be an issue.  Unless he says it is.   _Oh, fuck._ As I pull into the driveway and get out of my car, my heart falls into a crazy rhythm as I think about Bellamy making and enforcing rules. 

As I knock on his door – five quick knocks – I listen for movement behind the door.  One minute passes with no answer.  I knock again.  No answer.  I hear nothing from inside.  I saw his car out front, so I know I’m at the right address.  If this was anyone else, I would double-check to make sure I had the right house, but I know Bellamy.  He is fucking with me now.  He knows that I made him wait for no reason, and this is how he tells me so.  Asshole.  I know that I have no choice but to wait for him.  I resist the urge to fidget, and I absolutely do not knock again.  I settle into a neutral standing position, hands by my side with what I hope is a disinterested facial expression. 

After five minutes and fifteen seconds (yes, I timed it), I finally hear footsteps approach the door.  The deadbolt disengages and the handle turns.  Bellamy opens the door but doesn’t step aside to let me in.  He just stands there in appraisal as he gives me a once-over with his dark gaze.  His facial expression transforms into one of satisfaction and he utters words that unexpectedly make my heart soar.

_"Good girl."_

Oh, god.  My mouth goes dry and my head starts to buzz.  He steps aside and motions for me to come in.  After I pass through the door, he closes the door with a loud slam that causes me to turn and look at him.  He looks downright predatory.  If I didn’t already know this man inside and out, I would be terrified.  Instead, I am unbelievably turned on.  

Shit.  I’m not wearing panties.  Did I forget to mention that?  Yeah, I decided to forego underwear.  I don’t know what inspired that wardrobe choice, but I am suddenly panicked about the sudden trickle of juices threatening to roll down my inner thighs.  He instructed me to come in the pencil skirt I wore at the restaurant, but I opted to change into a lightweight floral print chiffon skirt that that came to about mid-thigh.  It feels incredibly silky against my skin.  I matched it with a slinky cap-sleeved top over a light pink lace bra and topped it off with a button-down cardigan to counteract the chilly evening air.  On my feet, I wore gladiator sandals with leather straps that stopped mid-calf.   It is spring, after all.  I wanted to dress for the season.  

I don’t know what his next move is going to be, but before anything truly gets started, we need to be smart about it.  We need to lay down the ground rules. 

I avert my gaze to the wall next to him.  “We have to talk about this first.”  I can feel his gaze on me as I shift uncomfortably from foot to foot.  He doesn’t respond at first.  When I look at him again, he nods in agreement and looks pointedly toward the living room.  A tray on the coffee table holds an empty water pitcher and two glasses. 

He walks in and sits in the middle of the large sofa.  I follow him, but don’t know where I should sit until he gestures towards the smaller sofa across from him.  I realize he hasn’t spoken a word since he closed the front door, and I'm not sure what to make of that.  We sit in silence as he looks me over, and as his gaze travels over different parts of my body, I see his imagination run wild.  Somehow, I have to break the silence because we can’t avoid this discussion. 

“I’ve never done this before.”  My voice feels so small. 

He nods, “I know.”   _Fuck,_ his voice makes me wet. 

“Lexa – does she know you saw me?”  He doesn’t appear surprised by my question. 

“No.  And she won’t,” he assures me.

“She can’t.”

“I know.” 

“You need to understand that she cannot be involved in any way, shape, or form.”

He nods in agreement. 

I feel the need to clarify, “This isn’t about the nature of our, um, activities.”

“I know.” (He says “I know” a lot. Of course.)

“It's because she's toxic and I refuse to be drug back into her sick collection of crazies.”  I'm briefly worried that I've crossed a line, but he doesn't seem to be offended. 

“She does not, and will not know of our involvement.  She’s not privy to the details of my life anymore.  I haven’t spoken to her in a long time.” 

I take a relieved breath.  The relief is short-lived, as I realize that there's much more to discuss. 

“So now we have the most awkward and bizarre conversation of my life?”

He laughs, “You can look at it that way.” 

I raise an eyebrow, “What other way is there to look at it?”

“You can think of it as awkward if you want.  I personally like to think of it as liberating.”

I nod my head while I consider what he just said. 

“When did you get start getting into, like, this sort of stuff?

He smiles again at my virginal word choices.  “I was a teenager when I realized that I had an unusual preoccupation with pain.  My interest in BDSM it was less sexual in the beginning, more about the control. But, it has allowed me to accept the fact that I'm a sadist.”

I give him a level look.  I’m about to make a snarky comment but he gives me a warning glare so I keep my mouth shut. 

He continues, “The term 'sadist' is misunderstood, and it applies to my tastes in a narrowly specific way. It's hard to describe it. I don't like to cause  _everyone_ pain, or even cause just it in just _anyone._ There is a time and place. There is a beauty in pain that is difficult for most people to understand, but that beauty is only possible with consent from the other person." 

"I get that." 

He pauses for a moment, "Anyway, I was 18 when I started to get actively involved with the lifestyle.” 

I nod my head and ask, “Who else knows?”

“No one in our mutual ‘friend’ group, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“That is what I’m asking.”  After a few seconds, I ask, “Is this why you told me we couldn’t be together when we were in college?” 

He nods with a gentle smile, “I think you know the answer to that question now.” 

“I do.  Though, at the time, I thought it was because you found me repulsive.”

He huffs out a quick laugh, “Yeah, that was definitely not the issue.”

I can’t suppress my smirk at this admission, “Yeah, I was hot.  Your rejection definitely fucked me up, though.” 

He looks remorseful as he hears me say that. “I never wanted to hurt you.”  

“I know.  I got over it.  I moved on.”  His jaw clenches.  I almost want to continue, to give him details on just _how_ I moved on. For a brief moment, I'm vividly reminded of the sting of rejection I felt that night in the parking lot.  But, my words are true.  There's no need to reopen old wounds.  I moved on.  Ironically, in doing so, we've been brought back together. 

He asks me matter-of-factly, “Do we need to hash this out?  I don’t want it to be an issue later.” 

I shake my head, “Actually, this revelation – this BDSM thing – helps.  If anything it’s resolved the resentment I felt.” 

“I'm glad to hear that.” 

“I also want to clarify, you weren't the reason I left.  You would have been the reason I stayed.” 

He searches my eyes, “Why _did_ you leave?”

“I had Alex.  She comes first, you know that.  Lexa’s was... unhealthy, and I couldn’t raise Alex to be part of it.  I had to get us out.”

“So you still call her Alex?"  I nod and he continues, "Does that remind you of Lexa?  Or the fact that you basically named your daughter after her?”

I roll my eyes.  Yes, naming my child _Alexandra_ may have been influenced by my affection for Lexa.  At the time, I thought she was the strongest person I knew.  “Alex’s name is not Lexa. To be honest, Alex and Lexa are so unalike, I don’t even associate one with the other.”  That’s not a lie. 

He gives me a genuine smile, “So Alex is well?” 

I can’t suppress the smile that overtakes my face at the thought of my beautiful daughter, “She's perfect.”  We need to get back on topic.  “Can we talk about her another time?  Honestly, I would really love to catch you up on her, but that’s not really why we’re here right now.”  

He huffs out a laugh and nods his head.  “So, on to the fun stuff...” 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next: Limits & kinks... Can they finish the conversation without jumping each other?


	5. i trust you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Limits. Have you thought about them?”
> 
> “Of course I’ve thought about them.” 
> 
> “Have you ever done a checklist?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's talk details... Can Clarke get through a mildly kinky conversation without jumping Bellamy?
> 
> This is wordy, but an important conversation for people engaging in BDSM activities - establishing play boundaries, limits, safety, etc. 
> 
> But I promise, this is the last chapter before the fun stuff.

"So, _on to the fun stuff."_

I take a cleansing breath.  The stuff may be fun, but talking about it sure isn’t.  I quietly wait for Bellamy to continue.

“Limits.  Have you thought about them?”

“Of course I’ve thought about them.” 

“Have you ever done a checklist?” 

I recall the various lists I have come across during my own BDSM research.  “Sort of.  Given that I am new to this shit, it is hard to define limits.  I don’t have a reference point for most of it, so I don’t know what I will like until I try it.  Honestly, I have yet to complete a checklist because I get too turned on to finish to the end.  Like, my mind goes crazy with suggestion and I have to—” I cut myself off there, embarrassed by what I just blurted out.

Bellamy contemplates what I just said, and I know where his head is going.  “Right.  Okay.”  He pauses for a minute and I smirk at his sudden difficulty speaking.  He clears his throat again before he continues.  “On these checklists, have you come across things that are definite “no’s,” or things that particularly excite you?” 

“Um… I draw the line at medical health hazards.  I saw somewhere that urinary catheters are a thing.  That’s not going to happen.  UTI’s are a bitch, and I’m not confident in a layperson’s sterile technique.  Basically, if it is a medical procedure, I don’t trust a non-medical professional to do it.  No offense.”  He doesn’t seem to be insulted.  I continue, “Not to make assumptions, but intend to incorporate sex into this arrangement.  Are we on the same page here?”

“Yeah, Clarke. We're on the same page.”  Bellamy smirks and I totally blush.   _Seriously, Clarke, you're a grown woman. No blushing about sex.  Even if it_ is _sex with one of my closest friends..._

I awkwardly wring my hands in my lap, “Okay…  So, about protection.” 

He stops to think about this.  He is well-aware how I managed to conceive my daughter after a one-night-stand.  At the time, I was on the pill, but still used a condom because I am a proponent of safe sex.  One of the condoms broke, so I took the morning-after pill, you know, just in case.  A few weeks later, I found out I was pregnant.  So yeah, he understands my concern about my uterus being a little  _too_  baby-friendly. 

I continue, “I have an IUD to prevent pregnancy.  My last STD testing was three weeks ago, and I’m clean as a whistle.  I haven’t had unprotected sex, or actually, any sex since then.  I have the lab results for all that.”  I pull up a document from the clinic on my phone verifying as much.  I show it to him.  “Before having unprotected sex, or unprotected penetration, I’d like you to be tested as well.”  He chuckles at my businesslike manner.  I would be offended, but he pulls out his phone, apparently to retrieve a similar document on his own behalf.  We trade devices so that we can confirm each other’s STD-free status.  Sure enough, he tested clean last week. 

“Do you prefer penetration with or without condoms?”

I give him an incredulous look, “Seriously?  I haven’t had a _lot_ of sexual partners, but I know without a doubt that going bare feels so much better, especially on an uncut guy.”  I almost ask what his circumcision status is, but I decide that will be a surprise for later. 

“Agreed. So, my next question would be, would you agree to a fluid-bonded partnership?"

I arch an eyebrow, "What the fuck is fluid bonded?"  

He laughs at my expression, "Exclusive sexual relationship. Well, at least no unprotected sex with anyone but each other."

I nod, "Okay. I agree to that." I have to think about how to word this next thought without sounding clingy.  "On a related note, about other sexual partners... I'm not okay with an open relationship. Like, if we were strangers, a non-exclusive type of arrangement might be possible, but we have _history,_  Bellamy. I'm not even going to try to delude myself into thinking there aren't feelings involved.  I don't mean to sound possessive, but I kind of am, in this regard. I just need that to be clear." 

His face is reassuring when he nods, "It's good to hear we are in agreement on that."

After we both share a moment of awkward relief, he continues. "Anything else?" 

“Um, yeah.  One checklist mentioned drinking blood.  There’s no fucking way that’s happening.  And it is a genuine health risk to be ingesting feces, so I won’t do that, either.  I’m really not aiming to end up in the hospital.  Um… No animals.”  After a few more moments of thought, I add “I won’t be ‘given away’ or ‘sold’ like a slave.”

Bellamy gives me a comforting look, “Clarke, I would never do that.”  He searches my face to make sure I believe him.  I acknowledge it with a nod.  “Are there other hard limits?”

“Not that I can think of off the top of my head.  I would say that besides the things I just mentioned, I am willing to try anything with someone I trust.  And I trust you.”  I pause and think about what I just said.  “I’ll try anything with you.”   

His Adam's apple bobs as he swallows hard.  His eyes have a faraway gaze, and I find my arousal heightens as I consider what might be going through his head.  I clear my throat to bring both him and myself back to reality.  We have got to get this done because I am aching to get started.  My logical side will soon lose to the passionate and impulsive side, and it won’t be long before I am begging him to just _take_ me already. 

Bellamy shakes his head as if to clear his thoughts.  He sifts through a pile of papers on the coffee table and hands me a stapled packet.  “This is one of those checklists.  Start reading through that, and I’ll be right back.”  He leaves the room with the water pitcher in hand.   

I shed my cardigan, because I feel like I’m about to burn alive.  I start reading down the list of “activities” and my heart begins to race.   _Beating. Biting. Blindfolds. Bondage. Oh god, those are just the B's..._   I’m utterly captivated by the possibilities.  It isn’t until I hear a creaking sound from the doorway that I notice him leaning on the door frame, watching me.

“Oh, shit-” I nearly jump out of my skin.  “How long have you been standing there?” 

He smirks, “Long enough to see what this is doing to you.”  That predatory glare of his threatens to make another appearance and I’m almost done for.  “Do you have questions? Is there anything on there you want to talk about?” The sincerity of his voice is startling.

I pause for a moment, because I certainly have questions, but I don’t know if I can handle the answers without stripping down and begging him to consume me.  Maybe that’s what he's going for.  “I didn’t realize there were so many different kinds of bondage.”  He smirks as I take a deep breath.  I study his expression as I ask “Do you know how to do all these?” 

He takes a deep breath and nods, a half-smile still on his face.  “I do.”  I can feel the flush on my skin creep over my body.  Judging by his facial expression, he sees it, too. 

I am suddenly struck by a memory. “Do you remember that time I slapped you?”  He frowns and nods, and I think he knows where I’m going with this.  “You told me that I needed to be tied up and fucked, or something like that.” My heart skips a beat at the appearance of his lopsided grin.  

“’Well and truly fucked’ was my exact wording.”   _Yeah, that sounds about right..._

 “I was beyond pissed that you would suggest something like that.” I lower the volume of my voice to ask, “Do you want to know a secret?”  

Bellamy takes another hard swallow.  God, I love having this effect on him.  He nods – the action is slow and controlled, but the intensity in his eyes belies his cool exterior.   He sits back down on the couch across from me, then leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees. 

“The day you told me that, I practically raced home so I could fuck myself." I huff, "I had the most intense orgasm I had ever experienced.”  I see the muscles clench over his beautiful jawbone.  Again, I'm pleased by my effect him.  I really want to keep pushing it, but if he loses control, there is no way we will finish this.  I remind myself that we have to do this right.  This whole thing is too important to skip such an important step.   _Focus, Clarke..._

His voice is low and graveled.  “Do you want me to tie you?” 

Oh. God.  I nod and my mouth goes dry ( _again_ ).  I feel an irrational urge to appear unaffected. When I glance up and meet his eyes, I can do nothing to hide my anticipation.  His eyes trail down my neck and he licks his lips before he can stop himself.  I’ll count that as another win. 

His voice is deep and and graveled in the most distracting way, “What else _excites_ you?” 

I try to think carefully about my answer, but it is getting difficult to think straight.  “Discipline?  Like, when I do something bad you give me consequences?” 

Bellamy nods in agreement.  I can see it on his face.  He _wants_ to discipline me, and I’m getting more turned on, dammit.  “Punishments.  I can accommodate that.”  With an unnerving amount of calmness in his voice, he tells me, “I won’t be disobeyed.”  His voice is composed and controlled, but his body betrays his speech.   I see his eyes darken, his jaw clench.  Yeah, this is _definitely_ a thing for him.  And I _can't wait_  for him to use me like that.  

Bellamy looks apprehensive as he asks, “What about pain?” 

“Can you be more specific?” I really do need more than just the word “pain” to answer his question.

“Does pain get you off?”  He asks simply.

After considering my answer for a few moments, I admit, “I don’t know.”

Sensing my nervousness, he tells me “It’s okay not to know.”

“I would like to find out.”  I look him in the eyes and the dark expression on his face sends a thrill through me. 

His tone is genuine, “I can help you with that.” 

I feel a surge of confidence as I look him in the eye and ask, "Will you mark me?"

Bellamy is silent and unreadable as he stares back at me.  I swallow hard and I can hear my heartbeat in my ears.  

Desire has surpassed rational thought. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fiiiiiiinally, the good stuff next chapter... ;-)


	6. yes, sir...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bellamy guides Clarke through her first submissive experience, and she's rewarded handsomely...
> 
> (Clarke POV)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully this was worth the wait...

Bellamy stands up and nods at the papers in my hand.  “Set them down.”

I quickly obey, then stand up and step away from the sofa.  He pours water into both glasses and hands one of them to me.  

“Drink.”  He finishes his glass while I hurriedly gulp down the water from my own.  I hand him back the empty glass. 

I straighten my posture as he sets the glasses down on the table.  With purposeful strides, he closes in and walks me backwards, crowding me into the wall.  

He takes one of my hands in his larger one and holds it between our chests. He looks down at them as he taps his thumb along my knuckles, one by one.  

His gaze burns a trail of fire along my body as the fingertips of his free hand dance lightly along my cheek and trail down my throat before curling around the back of my neck. He rests his thumb gently over my windpipe. He applies no pressure, but a distinct bolt of panic surges through me. After a moment, the panic subsides, replaced by a hunger for  _more_. He turns his wrist so that his palm rests against the base of my neck, his thumb and fingers spread out along my collarbones.  I could scream with anticipation (but I don’t _dare_ ). 

“Do you know when to use a safe word?”  

I nod, “When I need you to stop.” 

“Good.  Do you have one you want to use?  This will be a full-stop safe word.”

“Red.  It’s generic, but there’s safety in that.”

“Agreed.  If you need me to slow down, say yellow.” 

“Okay.”

Bellamy wraps his large hand around my wrist, and  _holy fucking shit_ , the act is unexpectedly erotic.  Something about the possessive way his fingers trap my wrist lights an explosion of lust that sends my pulse racing.  He leads me out of the living room and down a hallway.  I’m not sure what I expect, but I can't help but wonder if I will turn a corner and stumble into a dungeon.  He comes to a halt in front of a normal-looking door, which opens into a disappointingly normal-looking room. At the far end of the room stands a gorgeous king size four-poster bed, and my immediate observation is that it looks very sturdy.    The mattress is high off the ground, which makes the bed seem even more luxurious.  He motions for me to enter the room, then follows behind me and closes the door. 

He gives me a few moments to gaze around the room.   I see that two of the walls are lined with floor-to-ceiling mirrors, and my mind buzzes with excitement when I think about how erotic it will be to watch him fuck me from so many angles.  I glance up to see mirrors on the ceiling above the bed. _Maybe this room isn’t so boring, after all._

The warmth of Bellamy's body radiates into mine when he stands close behind me. As he caresses his fingers up and down my arms, I feel his breath ruffle the hair at the nape of my neck.  His fingers dig into my flesh with bruising force. He pulls my hips against his, I can feel his hard cock against me and I forget to suppress an embarrassing moan.  He wraps a hand around my wrist, further awakening long-dormant waves of lust, and turns me around to face him.  He walks me back to the nearest wall and pushes his body against mine so I can’t move.  He radiates a heat that threatens to ignite something simmering under my skin. 

Bellamy rests his forehead against mine and closes his eyes. It feels like time has stood still.  He doesn't move except for his thumbs, rubbing circles on my bare skin above the waistband of my skirt.  Just when I’m about to say something, I feel him drag his hands up my sides, taking the hem of my top with them.  I start to lift my arms, thinking he is going to take my top off, but he drops the fabric as his hands dart up to grab my wrists and pull them back down.  He opens his eyes and lifts his head away from mine as he forcefully presses my wrists against the mirror behind me. I flip my palms and stretch my fingers, groping for something, _anything_ to grasp onto, but the search is futile against the smooth glass surface. I struggle against him, just to test his hold, and my thighs are dripping as I realize the strength of his grip. He shakes his head, wordlessly telling me not to move, then releases my arms. 

He purposefully drags his fingers up my arms and cups my face in his large hands.  I am struck by the realization that we have never kissed before.  He searches my face with concern in his eyes, as if to make sure that this is still okay.  My heart starts to race and my thoughts are on fire with anticipation for something that has been brewing for nearly fifteen years. 

Bellamy cautiously lowers his head as I nod, allows his lips to hover over mine for a few moments before he finally, _finally_ closes the distance between us.  It’s just a tender meeting of our lips but it's monumental in that it's _years_ in the making. It feels like coming _home_. I feel a knot in my throat as a tear escapes my eye and rolls down my cheek.  He pulls his head away when he feels the wetness on his hand, but I bring my hands up to grasp his wrists and keep them in place.  I lean forward and capture his lips with mine.  Our mouths tenderly move together as his thumbs brush against my cheekbones.  When his tongue brushes across my bottom lip, I open my mouth to him and he angles his head so he can deepen the kiss.  He brings a thumb to my chin and presses down to open my jaw wider, eliciting an involuntary moan from my throat.  _(I am unbelievably turned on by that)._

We are in another world again, and this seems almost too tender for what is about to happen.  Bellamy must have the same thought, because the kiss abruptly becomes more ravenous.  Something inside of us _ignites_ and I feel myself unravel as I'm consumed by the fire of Bellamy Blake.  He breaks the kiss and I moan in protest until he wraps my hair around his fist and he pulls my head back to expose the long line of my neck.  He drags his lips along my jaw, then drags his teeth down my neck with animalistic intensity.  He noses the fabric of my shirt over to expose more of my shoulder to him.  A strong shiver shoots through my body as he moves back toward my neck and grazes his teeth along my collarbone.  His mouth travels back up to mine to meet me in a passionate kiss. 

Without breaking the kiss, Bellamy grabs my wrists again and presses them hard against the wall next to my shoulders.  Our fingers lace together as he scrapes his teeth back down the line of my neck, much more roughly than before.  I yelp as he bites down sharply where my neck meets my collarbone and harshly sucks on the skin between his teeth.  He is leaving his mark in the most obvious possible place, and I can’t decide if I am pissed about the location or incredibly turned on.  _(Turned on. Definitely turned on.)_   As if he can read my thoughts, I feel his lips form a smirk against my neck before he moves his mouth down my chest. 

 _Now_ he decides the shirt is in the way, so he brings his hands to my waist and tugs the hem of my shirt, bringing it up over my breasts.  I haven’t moved my hands from the place he last pinned them.  

“You can lift your arms now,” he chuckles in a low, gravelly voice that ensures that I am  _soaked._  

I obey and he removes my shirt the rest of the way. He slowly rakes his fingers along the sensitive undersides of my arms on the way up. I gasp as he takes my wrists in his hands and brings them together over my head. A satisfied smile graces his features as he carefully positions one in front of the other and grips them tightly in one hand.  The cool air over my torso causes goosebumps to erupt all over my body, and my nipples are so embarrassingly hard, I just know they’re poking through my bra. His free hand roams languidly over my body now, drags down my chest and between my breasts. My skin twitches when he brushes his fingers over my abdomen. I feel his fingers sweep just barely under the waistband of my skirt before he moves them back up to tease my nipples over the fabric of my bra.  My nerve endings are on fire, so just the light touch on my hardened nubs draws out an embarrassingly loud groan.  He looks positively _pleased_ with himself.

Bellamy lets go of my wrists, but I keep my arms lifted above my head (he hasn’t given me permission to move them).  He steps back momentarily to rake his eyes up and down my body.  My breaths come fast and heavy and I feel a sheen of sweat cover me despite the fact that we have done almost nothing physically demanding (yet).  He doesn't event try to hide his massive erection, and smirks when he catches me looking at it. 

He tells me “Patience is a virtue, Clarke.” 

Bellamy steps back into me, kicks my legs apart and thrusts his knee between my thighs. I shamelessly grind against him until he grabs my hips to hold them still. He drags a hand down the front of my skirt, slips his fingers under the gauzy fabric and trails them back up my inner thigh.  He halts and gives me a wicked smile.  I am briefly confused, then I realize he is reveling in how wet I am.  His hand begins to travel up my thigh again, and when he realizes I’m not wearing panties his gaze is voracious.  

With his face against my neck, he whispers against my skin, “You’re a naughty, naughty girl.” 

I groan unabashedly when he brings his mouth back to my neck and sucks again on the mark he just left.  (Was he trying to make it darker?  Probably.  Yeah, this marking thing is a _huge_ turn on for me). His fingers move between my folds and I drop my head back against the wall with a sharp moan.  As he continues to probe my pussy, I hear a wet smacking sound.  

He murmurs against my skin again, “Do you _hear_ how fucking wet you are?  Fuck, is that all for me?”  I buck my hips against his hand and nod my head furiously.  He slips a finger inside me and groans against my neck, “Jesus fucking Christ, Clarke.”  I involuntarily clench around his finger.  He slowly pumps it in and out a few times before he adds a second finger.  I let out a pathetic whimper as he probes my inner walls and stretches against them in a most delicious way.  He grinds the base of his hand against my clit while crooking his fingers against that sweet spot and I cry out in pleasure.

I drop my hands to grip onto his arm to hold it in place while I grind against his hand.  His face hardens and the atmosphere suddenly shifts.  As I realize my mistake, I halt my movements and let go of his arm, quickly returning my hands back to the wall.  He removes his hand from my cunt and grips my chin with it.  I can feel my own juices on my chin and I am simultaneously turned on and mortified. 

“You are not in control here.”  The heat behind his eyes is menacing.  “If you fail to remember that, you will be punished.”  My heart begins to race as I consider the consequences of defying him.  He strokes my cheek with the back of his index finger, still sopping wet with my fluids, and tilts his head thoughtfully.  “I don’t necessarily _want_ to punish you, but I may _have_ to if you have a lesson to learn” (Something tells me he _absolutely_ wants to punish me).  I acknowledge his words with a nod and a thick swallow. “Do you understand, Clarke?”

I nod frantically, “Yes.”  

"No,"  He growls in a reprimanding tone. (Am I a damn toddler?)

“No?” I furrow my brows, confused.

“You will address me as ‘Sir’ in here.”

“Okay.  Yes.”  I reply, still nodding.  Leaving out “sir” _may_ have been intentional on my part.

With his free hand, he delivers a throbbing pinch to the inside of my thigh, which pulls a surprised yelp from me. 

“Yes _Sir_ ,” I say with a sly grin. 

His look of satisfaction makes me clench my thighs, and I can feel my wetness start to trickle down my thighs again. 

“You've been trying to push my buttons already, haven’t you?” He growls.  I half-heartedly try to look innocent, but it’s bullshit and he absolutely knows it.  “You didn’t have things you had to do this afternoon, did you?”  I roll my eyes to the ceiling and shrug my shoulders.  He growls.  Actually  _growls_ , and I would laugh if I weren’t so desperately turned on.  “You just wanted to make me wait, didn’t you?” 

“Maybe,” I reply coyly. “Is that not why you made me stand outside your door so long?”

Choosing not to answer my question, he continued, “Was your disobedience with your clothes purposeful?”  

“No,” I lie.

“Lying to me will earn you more punishments, Clarke.” 

After considering my options, I admit quietly, “Yes.”

“Yes, _what_?” he asks me with a stern look.

“Yes _Sir_. I changed my clothes after you told me not to.” 

He clicks his teeth, shaking his head in a disappointed manner.  I can’t help but shiver at the dominating glimmer in his eyes.  “As I said before, I will not tolerate disobedience.  In the future, there will be consequences when you disobey.”

“Not now, _Sir_?”

“For punishments to be proper, you need to know the terms beforehand.  I can’t just arbitrarily punish you.”  I feel almost disappointed when he tells me this. 

“So you’re not going to spank me?”

“I didn’t say I wouldn’t spank you,” he says with a wicked smirk.

 _Holy fuck, I am so turned on right now_ …

Bellamy stares me down again, and I almost feel self-conscious at this point.  I raise my brows in question, not sure what I’m supposed to be doing.  He glances between me and the bed and like a kid who can’t make up his mind in the candy shop.   

“Walk to the corner of the bed.”   _God, his voice is erotically authoritative..._   I immediately comply.  I can see our reflection in the wall mirror across from me.  Once I am standing by one of the bed post, I turn to face him, but he has already taken his place behind me.  He won’t let me turn around.  “Eyes forward.  Hands on the bed post.”  I anchor myself to the strong structure and my entire body buzzes with anticipation.  I hear a noise to my side, like something was dropped, and before I can stop myself, I start to turn my head towards it.  He delivers a stinging smack to my thigh and growls, “I  _said,_ Eyes. Forward. I won’t repeat myself again.”  I feel a shudder shoot through me. 

With one hand, Bellamy deftly unhooks my bra and pushes the straps off my arms.  He allows me to release the bedpost just long enough to let the straps slide off so my bra can land unceremoniously at our feet.  He kicks it to the side, then quickly divests me of my skirt, and I am left stark naked, wearing just the gladiator sandals.  He is fully clothed behind me, impervious to my attempts to make him move.  I wiggle my bare ass wantonly into him and feel his hard cock dig into my lower back.  Nothing.  I throw my head back, moaning loudly in frustration.

I can practically _hear_ his eyes roll when he growls.  After a few moments, he drags me back hard against him and starts a relentless assault on my cunt.  He thrusts two long fingers into my dripping wet pussy, while his thumb works my clit with blissful precision.  With his other hand, he kneads my breasts and plucks my nipples while he sucks more marks into my skin, this time on the back of my neck.  I know I should probably be pissed about all of his territorial marking in such embarrassingly visible places, but right now I just can’t bring myself to care. A delicious pressure coils in my abdomen as he brings me closer to the edge.  

“Do you want to come, Clarke?” 

“You _think_?!?” I’m exasperated at this point, my pants and moans uncontrolled, and I thank god he doesn’t share walls with anyone.

“ _Hey_ , be nice.” He admonishes me with a painful twisting pinch to my nipple.  I flinch from the pain, but I can’t deny that the sensation was almost blissful.  “I’ll ask you again.  Do you want to come?”

“Yes. Yes, Sir I want to come.  Oh _god_ , I’m so close!” I have a white-knuckled grip on the bedpost.

He laughs.   _Laughs._   “Oh, Princess, you can’t come yet.”  He lowers his voice and and whispers near my ear, “But I bet you knew that already.”  He shakes his head, as if to scold me. I nod furiously in response, about to go over the edge with or without his permission.  I don’t know if I can stop myself. 

I whimper,"Please!"

“Please _what?”_

“Please, can I come, Sir?”  He sighs loudly against my skin then bites my neck harshly, which is something I have decided that I _love_.  “Oh god, do that! Harder!  Please!” He sucks mercilessly at the skin between his teeth and my knees threaten to buckle.  “Fuck!” I moan, “Oh, fuck, PLEASE! I'M BEGGING YOU! Please!"

“Since you asked so nicely,” He smirks against my skin, his voice low and commanding, “Come for me, Princess.”  

His demand sends me careening over the edge. The release is _earth-shattering_.  My senses melt together and I see shapes dance across my ears. I can taste a million different colors, like some sort of orgasmic synesthesia.  I feel myself go limp and I vaguely register that he has caught me before I actually hit the ground.  I want to wrap myself up in his warmth... His power. 

* * *

As I come down from my high, I realize that Bellamy is sitting on the side of the bed holding me across his lap.  He has taken his shirt off, and I curl my fingers against his beautiful bare chest.  I can feel his erection, hard beneath me.  He cradles my head to his chest, and I can hear it rumble as he tells me things that I hope aren’t important, because I am incapable of registering words right now.  I just _feel_ the vibrations of his deep voice as it surrounds me in the most blissful way.  His arms encircle me as his thumbs rub soothing circles on my skin.  I have no idea how long I’ve been like this – blissful and boneless in his lap.  I feel him loosen the bindings of my sandals, then I hear them plop to the ground. 

I begin to regain control of my body.  My breathing slows to a normal rate and my pulse no longer throbs under my rib cage.  He senses this as well, and starts to rub his hands up and down my arms. 

“Welcome back, Princess,” he tells me when I look up at him.  He gazes down at me tenderly, and I feel so incredibly _safe_. 

I just answer with a “hmmm” and I feel a blissful smile spread across my face. 

Bellamy chuckles, "I’m not done with you yet, Princess.”  His voice sends shivers down my spine and my heart rate picks up again in anticipation of what’s to come.  He stands up, still holding me, and turns around to deposit me on the bed.  “Lay down on your back.”  

I comply without delay.  I look up at the ceiling and I’m delightfully reminded of the mirrors above the bed.  I see myself sprawled out onto the bed and my body thrums with excitement for what he has in store for me next.  He steps away from the bed and goes to unbuckle his belt.  He opens a drawer in a nearby dresser produces a long cord, which he drags over my body as he makes his way to the other side of the bed.  It feels soft on my skin.  

“Hands above your head,” he commands.  The sensation of the satiny rope against my skin keeps me on edge, winding me back up. 

I watch Bellamy in the mirror, wondering what his next move will be.  He takes the cord and wraps it around and between my wrists in some sort of pattern.  After he ties it, he tells me to test the binding and make sure it’s not pinching anywhere.  As directed, I push and pull against the ties, and he seems satisfied that I can’t escape them.  I feel a surge of wetness from my core as that thought settles in.  He takes the remaining length of cord and attaches it to something I can’t quite distinguish in the mirror.  

He tells me, “Test the ropes again.  Tell me if there is any pinching or pain.”  I struggle against them to find that my hands are firmly and painlessly secured above my head.  Whatever he attached me to won’t allow me to bring my hands all the way down from above my head, which seems to be the point.  There is a generous amount of slack, though I’m not sure why. 

Bellamy pulls his cock out of the confines of his pants and strokes himself as he makes his way back over to my legs.  My heart races when I see it…  _Uncut... Fuck yes_.  When I realize how huge he is, I’m slightly concerned about how sore I might be tomorrow.  I don’t realize I’m licking my lips until I hear him laugh.  

“Are you _hungry_ , Princess?”  I blush a furious shade of red.  He kicks his pants and boxers the rest of the way off. It turns out Bellamy is a pro at dirty talk, and the effect on me is embarrassingly potent.  

“Clarke, sweetheart… I think you  _are_  hungry.  If you’re a good girl, I’ll let you taste my cock...  Right now, though?  Right now, you’re going to  _take_ my cock.  You want to be fucked _bad_.  You want me to fuck you _hard_ , don’t you?”  

I nod frantically.  He brushes his hand up my thigh and wrenches my knees apart as he steps between my legs.  His hands get to work doing sinful things to my body.  He picks up my leg, his hand underneath my knee, and spreads my legs wide open with one hand while his other hand gently parts my highly sensitive folds.  I can already feel my own juices trickle down between my ass cheeks.  

“Let’s see how wet you are,” he says as he inserts one, then two fingers inside of me.  “Of course, you’re still _dripping_ for me.” 

I can feel him make a scissoring motion with his fingers inside of me, stretching me out.  I am suddenly self-conscious.  This is the same man who coached me through the birth of my child.  He  _saw_  my daughter’s birth.  What if I’m not tight enough down there anymore?  Nobody has ever said anything about issues with “tightness,” but none of my sexual partners witnessed my child’s birth.  He hasn’t said anything about it.  I didn’t even think about it earlier, but now I can’t get it out of my head. 

It must be obvious that something’s wrong because he stops his movements and calls me by my name, “Clarke? Hey, Clarke, baby, what’s going on?”

I shake my head, trying to get out of my own mind.  I take a deep breath and release it before I find my voice again.  “God, Bell.  I’ve had a kid.” 

“And?” He raises an eyebrow. 

“What do you mean, ‘And?!’  I’ve had a kid!”

He must know where my head is at, because he brings his hand back to my pussy and strokes his fingers between my folds again.  He smiles gently, “Yeah, I remember.  I was there.”  I have no idea how he is so chilled out about this.  He dips his fingers back into my dripping wet pussy. “And if I wasn’t there, I wouldn’t believe it.”  He pumps his fingers in and out again, “ _This_ cunt is tight as _fuck,"_  punctuating each word with a thrust of his fingers.  He bends down to whisper in my ear while his fingers thrust inside me in the most delicious way, “I can’t fucking _wait_ to bury my cock in you.  When you came on my fingers earlier, it took everything I had not to impale you right then and there.  When your pussy clamped down on me, I almost lost my fucking mind wanting to fuck you so bad…” 

Bellamy drags his tongue down my throat, then nips small bites in a line down my chest and over my right breast.  He sucks the nipple into his mouth and laves his tongue over my pebbled nub.  My groans are uncontrolled, unabashed.  Not wanting to ignore my left breast, he brings his hand up to knead the supple flesh, then rolls the nipple between his fingers to coax it into an even more erect state.  He switches sides and moves his mouth to my other nipple and repeats the motions.  

Bellamy’s filthy mouth has me writhing and moaning beneath him again.  As he talks, he leans back up and spreads my legs wide again.  He grabs me by the ass cheeks and pulls me forward so my ass is flush with the edge of the bed.   _Ah, that's why there was so much slack in the ropes..._ He pulls my knees up and wraps my legs around his hips.  

He continues to talk as he rubs his cock against my pussy, “Does your tight little cunt want my cock?”

I buck my hips up against him, “Oh god, oh god, oh god _yes_ , so bad.” 

He coats himself in my arousal, and every time the tip of his cock bumps my clit, I moan louder.  I try to buck up against his cock, but he quickly grips my hips and holds me still against the bed.  He still hasn’t started to push in. He just holds himself at my entrance, rubs up and down my slit while his dirty mouth does all kinds of sinful things to my body.  God, his words… I writhe on the bed in an attempt to squirm out of his grip.  If I can pull his hips into mine just right, I’ll have his glorious cock filling me up inside…  

“Just  _fuck_  me, PLEASE!”

Bellamy bends back down and smirks against my neck as he growls, “I’m going to wreck you.  You know that, right? I'm going to fucking  _ruin_  you.”  He taps his cock against my clit, and I’m already on the verge of climax. He lines himself up and fills me with one powerful thrust.  His fingers dig into the flesh of my ass as he pulls me into him and impales me with his cock, sheaths himself fully inside me.  

I scream aloud in ecstatic agony “Oh, FUCK!” as another orgasm rips through me, taking us both by surprise.  I hear him growl as I cry out, and the synchronicity of our outcries makes my climax all the more intense.  His movements inside of me are shallow, just enough to ride me through the waves of my orgasm.  I have my legs wrapped around his hips, trying to crush as much of him into me as possible. 

Vulgar words drip from his tongue, “Fuck, Clarke...  Do you want me to tell you how you feel around me right now?”

With a frenzied nod, I answer breathlessly, _“Please!”_

“You feel _exquisite_ , Clarke.  Fucking _exquisite_.  Your tight cunt just swallowed me whole and the first thing my cock got to feel was you coming around it."  He huffs, "It's like your cunt is trying to squeeze the cum _right out_ of my cock..."  He sounds almost strained, "I can’t truly fuck you right now or I’ll fucking come so hard  _way_ too fucking fast...  I have so much more I want to do to you before I fill your magnificent pussy full of my cum...”  A particularly strong aftershock twitch tears through my body.  “Oh fuck, just like that.  Your wet cunt is quivering so good and you can’t control it, can you?”  I thrash my head from side to side.  “No, you can’t control it at all!  Your cunt is  _ravenous_  for my cock!”  He grinds himself inside of me and his pelvic bone makes full contact with clit, causing me to reflexively clench around his cock. My guttural moans are beyond my control.

Unbelievably, I am on the brink of yet another orgasm.  He pinches my clit and my whole body tenses up in pleasure as I fall apart all over again, “Holy  _fuck_ , there you go again.  Your pussy feels so incredible.  So goddamn incredible...” 

I only just now realize that I have been pulling violently at my own restraints.  He sweeps his hand up and down my sides, a gesture that affords me a sense of tranquility.  

“Relax, sweet girl...  Relax for me...  I've got you, baby girl.”  My chest still heaves but I hear his words surround me like a cloud.  His fingers caress the exposed undersides of my arms and I unclench my fingers.  I unclasp my hands and let myself fall back into the comfort of the bed underneath me.   

“You got me?”  I ask, in a daze.

“Yeah, I've got you, Princess.”  

I feel like I could curl up inside of him again. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Almost 5k words of shameless smut. 
> 
> I actually wrote this scene first. It was originally just going to be a one-shot of Clarke & Bellamy's new D/s relationship, but a friend suggested that this audience may need more background, and/or an explanation of why this kind of interaction between Clarke and Bellamy (power exchange) is okay. That kind of got away from me and ended up being like 8k words of background and vague BDSM education. 
> 
>  
> 
> The next chapter is a continuation of this scene, from Bellamy's POV.


	7. you did so good

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I lean down and take her earlobe between my teeth, “Is my princess ready to take all of me?”
> 
> She nods frantically, “God, yes. Fuck me!" 
> 
> “Oh, princess, I’m going to ruin you. I'm going to fucking wreck you. And you are going to LOVE every goddamn moment of your sweet demise. No one else will ever have you like I do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The continuation of their first scene, from Bellamy's POV.

I am completely floored.  Clarke is putty in my hands right now, and I could literally ask _anything_ of her, and I have no doubt she’d do it.  She has given herself to me in the most intimate way, and I wouldn’t do anything to break her trust.  I know I'm skilled, but so much of this experience is about our chemistry.  We danced around each other for over a decade, so I’m not surprised that we are this explosive.  She’s been aching for this release.  I’ve brought her over the edge three times now, and I’m nowhere near finished with her.  

I’m still hard inside of her, and I wasn’t exaggerating when I called her cunt exquisite.  I can’t believe she was worried about how she would feel to me.  Because fuck, she’s incredible.  She did come twice without my permission, but both of those took us completely by surprise.  I’m conflicted over whether there should be consequences for that.  I certainly can’t punish her while she’s in this headspace.  To be honest, I’m proud of myself for getting her here.  

I stand at the edge of my bed, with my cock buried inside this astonishingly gorgeous woman.  Her arms are secured beautifully above her head.  I rub my hands up and down her arms and body while she comes back to me.  I admire the sight of her splayed out in front of me.  Soft and supple curves.  Smooth creamy skin.  Sure, her body is not quite “ideal” by conventional standards, but it’s perfect for  _her._ It’s strong but graceful. Undeniably attractive.  

Her legs are still wrapped around my hips, anchoring me in her.  The reverberations of her last orgasm have her inner walls twitching around my hard dick.  The strain of staying still within her borders on painful.  I gently grind myself into her and her response is instantaneous.  She opens her eyes, her face a picture of pure satisfaction.

“God, you’re still hard,” she moans as she squeezes her legs to crush my hips into hers, as if to swallow as much of my length as possible.  She rolls her hips around in a circle, and the sensation on my cock is incredible.  I can’t suppress my groan and she releases a moan of her own in erotic harmony.  I dig my fingers into her flesh hard enough to bruise.  She _asked_ me to mark her, the thought of which pretty much did me in.  I’ve already sucked some lovely bruises into the graceful line of her neck.  She’ll have a hell of a time trying to cover those up. I'm ready to devour her, and she can see it.  

I lean down and take her earlobe between my teeth, “Is my princess ready to take all of me?”

She nods frantically, “God, yes. _Fuck me!"_  

“Oh, princess, I’m going to ruin you.  I'm going to fucking  _wreck_ you.  And you are going to LOVE every goddamn moment of your sweet demise.  No one else will  _ever_  have you like I do.”  

I pull out until only the tip of my cock is inside her, then slowly push back into her.  I am mesmerized as I gaze at the intersection of my cock and her pussy.  As I pull it out, I watch the flesh of her inner lips stretch beautifully around my thick, veined shaft.  I am hypnotized by the sight of her pussy accepting the length of my cock as I slowly push back into her, inch by inch.  I repeat the movement, committing this breathtaking image to memory.  As the sensation of the slow movement of her pussy walls around my cock becomes too intense to hold back, I again withdraw my length nearly all the way, then plunge hard and fast back into her, repeating the motion and snapping my hips against her a punishing rhythm.  

“Oh, oh, my god!”  She is so far gone, she has stopped trying to keep up with my thrusts.  I grip onto her ass cheeks to slam her hips against mine to meet every harsh plunge.  The sensation is fucking incredible.  

“Here’s what you’re going to do, princess: You’re going to come when I come.  I’m going to fill your cunt with my come while your pussy milks my cock for every drop.  Can you do that princess?”  

She nods frantically, “Oh, fuck, I'm so close!" Her voice is shaky and desperate and just how I want it.  

“Don’t you _dare_  come until I tell you to!” 

"Oh, god... please!" Her entire body trembles as she tries to hold back her climax.  

I feel my cock start to swell and I know I only have a few thrusts left, “Come for me baby, come on my cock, now!"

She wails as her orgasm tears through her.  Her pussy spasms around my cock and milks the come right out of me.  I keep thrusting until I’ve emptied myself completely inside her.  Her cunt still pulsates around my cock and she cries out in orgasmic ecstasy.  She is  _still_ coming, and coming, and coming.  I am absolutely captivated by her.  I massage all over her body as she comes down from the most intense orgasm I have ever witnessed.  Clarke coming around my cock is unquestionably the most amazing thing I have ever felt.  She is writhes against her restraints again, so I gently massage her arms as I work my way up to her wrists so I can release her from her bonds.  

As her spasms begin to fade, I whisper small encouragements into her ear, “...fucking _incredible_ , baby… God you feel like fucking paradise.  You're so goddamn beautiful like this."  

When her body finally stops trembling, I pull out of her.  I lift her body so that I can move her head to the pillows and cover her with blankets.  I roll her on her side and get into bed behind her. 

I slide my arm under her head and she nestles her back into my chest and I wrap my arm around her waist.  I feel a delicate quake in my arms and hear a quiet whimper.  I feel teardrops fall on my arm and I realize she’s crying.  

“Clarke, baby, what’s going on?  Talk to me.”  She takes a shaky breath before she turns her head up to face me.  

Her voice breaks as she utters, “Thank you.  That was wonderful. Perfect _._   So just… thank you.”  I press gentle kisses to her hair.  After a few more shaky breaths, she is no longer crying and her body relaxes inside my arms again.  I softly whisper into her ear, kissing the sensitive spot below her earlobe, then dragging my mouth down and back up her neck.

"Princess, you're amazing. You did so good... So, so good."  _  
_

 I feel her nod a few times and she squeezes the arm that I’ve draped around her waist.   

Her breathing evens out as she succumbs to sleep, and I follow quickly behind her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In all honesty, this is a tame scene, at least in the world of BDSM, but this is an introduction for Clarke, so baby steps... 
> 
>  
> 
> I've never written anything on the Internet, so this is a new thing for me. I am stupidly obsessed with Bellamy+Clarke, and a modern AU + BDSM plot has been bouncing around in my head for a while. I haven't see many long form D/s Bellarke fics, with the exception of "Caught in the Fire," which has beautifully cornered the market on Canon-verse D/s (which is why I went all the way modern AU) 
> 
> I'm wanting to get a feel for what is readable for this audience - how "heavy" a scene can you guys handle??? I'm still figuring out where I'm going to go with this. How far is too far? Is a future PainSlut!Clarke going too dark? 
> 
> I guess this is where I'm supposed to beg for reviews? :-) 
> 
> Also, I could obviously benefit from the eyes of a beta, so if anyone knows where I could hook up with one, or would volunteer, let me know! 
> 
> Constructive criticism is appreciated!!!


	8. don't be shy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So come to me. Let me take care of you. You submit to me, put the control in my hands. Then you get to let go. Feel.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The morning after - some sweet (vanilla) wake-up sex and a Bellarke heart-to-heart.
> 
> The sex in this chapter is just good old-fashioned vanilla sex (with some dirty-talk from Bellamy, of course). Clarke's taking baby steps into this whole thing, so for a while, I'll probably be peppering in tame stuff between the new things Bellamy will do with her.

I feel _warm._ _Safe_. I haven’t opened my eyes, but I can feel Bellamy all around me. I’ve never been a fan of “spooning” until this exact moment. His arm is draped over my body, hugging my back into his chest. His breaths are deep and even, every exhale rustles the hairs at the nape of my neck. I trail my fingertips up and down his arm.  I feel the extensor muscles of his forearm twitch as he flexes and stretches his fingers along my abdomen and rib cage. I imagine they are moving of their own accord, trying to find a new place to grasp. His palm settles against my ribcage, below my breasts, and he murmurs something against my neck that I can’t quite decipher. I savor the protective confines of Bellamy’s arms as I relax and allow myself to drift back to sleep…

* * *

 

[Bellamy POV]

I wake up and my right arm is tingling. I open my eyes to see Clarke’s head on my bicep. The weight of her head has been pressing on a nerve or blood supply, because the fingers on my right hand are numb. I feel a satisfied (possibly smug) grin take over my face as I replay last night’s events in my mind. I feel Clarke’s sleeping form caged in my arms, and I have an instinctive urge to shield her, protect her from the world. I can see light from the early morning sky starting to filter through the windows. I want to forget the rest of the world today. Right now, this _is_ my world.

I can feel my stomach threaten to growl, and I have a feeling Clarke will be hungry when she gets up. My cock twitches when I think about how _hungry_ she was last night. _Okay, Blake… eye on the ball. Breakfast. Don’t get distracted…_  If I don’t get out of the bed right now, I’m going to fuck the blonde in my arms without much delay. As great as that would be, Clarke needs her sleep. If there’s anything I remember, it’s that she is not a morning person. I have a feeling that she might be a little more amenable to waking up if orgasms are involved… Thing is, I don’t want to let her out of my bed today.

I start a checklist in my head: _Things to do to keep Clarke in bed_. For starters, I need to keep her well-fed and hydrated because I have plans for us... I brainstorm a list of light foods to tide her over until we make an actual meal.

I carefully slip my arm out from under her head and she rolls onto her stomach with a groan. I make my way out of the bedroom and into the kitchen. I gather up some cut-up fruits, a couple of scones, and the water pitcher and glasses. As I'm about to leave the kitchen, a jar of honey catches my eye and my mind reels with new ideas. _I really want her to wake the fuck up now…_

When I get back to the bedroom, Clarke hasn’t moved an inch. I trip on her strappy sandals as I walk by the bed, which sets off a chain reaction of shit falling over (and a loud string of curse words from me). I'm amazed by the depth of sleep this woman has reached. At the same time, I feel like a kid on Christmas morning, waiting for everyone to wake up so I can open my present.

That’s the approach I’ve decided to take – I’ll unwrap Clarke like a gift this morning. I spend a moment committing the image in front of me to memory. She is somehow in the exact middle of my bed, her naked body hidden underneath white sheets that settle at the middle of her back. She’s on her stomach, but if she were to turn over, her tits would be bare. _There’s a thought…_ Her arms are draped over the sides of the pillow under her head, almost (but not quite) hugging it. Her long hair is gathered to the side, allowing an unobstructed view of the creamy skin of her back as it rises and falls with her steady breaths.

She looks so peaceful, I almost feel bad for waking her up. _Almost_.

I crawl into the bed on her side and join her under the sheets, propping myself on my elbow to get a good view. She doesn’t stir when she starts to roll toward the dip in the mattress that forms from the added weight. I slowly draw the sheets down over the curves of her ass, until I can see the the cleavage of her cheeks. My fingers trace a gentle path along the contours of her back.  She releases a sigh, but nothing else. I slip my arm underneath her, just below her breasts, as I caress her back with my fingertips. Her skin twitches under my lips as I leave a trail leave a trail of open mouth kisses across her lower back to her waist. I drag my mouth back to the center, and can't help but grin at the way her whole body shivers as I exhale against her skin.  She’s still not awake, but her unconscious reactions are promising.

I press my lips to the dips in between each bump in her spine. _Spinous Process_. That’s the name of the protruding part of each vertebra.  I think of the times Clarke used me for anatomy practice in college. _Spinous process_ stuck in my head because I have always found it unbearably sexy when a woman has just two or three visible vertebrae in her lower back. When she told me what they were called, I never forgot. I was reminded of Clarke’s anatomy lessons every single time I caressed a woman’s back.

I never thought I would be where I am right now – worshiping the entrancing curves of Clarke’s body, remembering things she taught me so long ago.

My lips travel up the center of her back, then brush across her shoulder blades toward the far side of her torso.  I get a few twitches in response this time.  I return my mouth to the middle of her back, leaving wet kisses along her spine as I move toward the nape of her neck.  Her breathing changes and I know she's awake now.  I'm amused by her attempts to conceal her awareness... With my free hand, I caress the swell of her ass, and move my hand in between her cheeks, dipping farther until my fingers meet her warm, wet folds. I hear her gasp and I lift my head up to look at her face. Her eyes are still closed, but her mouth is open in a perfect little “O” shape. I dip a finger inside of her as I lay quiet kisses to the nape of her neck.  My cock hardens even more when I feel exactly how wet she already is. I kiss her behind her ear and she giggles.

I smirk against her skin, “I knew you weren’t asleep anymore.”

She grins, her eyes still closed.  “Can you blame a girl? I didn’t want you to stop.” 

My teeth graze the shell of her ear, “Is that right?” 

She starts to laugh again, but it turns into a throaty “ _oh god_ ” as I add a second finger and push in farther to gently but firmly stroke her inner walls. With the arm that’s underneath her, I knead her breast, then roll a nipple between my thumb and forefinger.  Her answering moan is downright obscene.  

“You like that?” I ask her in a low voice, my mouth hovering right over her ear.

“Oh, _god_ yes.” She bites her lip in a way that makes my dick impossibly hard.

I pump my fingers in and out of her pussy, she clenches down on them, and I can’t help but want to feel that around my dick instead of my fingers. I really want to fuck her right now. I remove my hands, and she lets out a groan in protest.

“Calm down, I've got you.” I tell her with grin. “Hands and knees. Face the mirror.”

The expediency with which she obeys sets my heart in a crazy rhythm. I move behind her and put my fingers back to work, thrusting in and out of her dripping cunt. Her moans are so authentically aroused that I have trouble keeping my head together.

I put a hand between her shoulders and push her down toward the bed while I whisper in her ear, “Put your shoulders on the bed for me.” She nods and obeys. She cries out in protest when I pull my fingers out of her pussy again. She is so beautifully displayed to me like this. I massage her ass cheeks while I talk to her. “Do you want me to tell you what I’m looking at right now?”

She nods her head, “Yes, _please...”_ When they say the brain is an erogenous zone, they aren’t kidding. Clarke responds to dirty talk like nothing I’ve ever seen. I can even see her pussy clench when she’s answering me.

I growl at the sight, “I’m looking at your gorgeous pink cunt. It’s all shiny and wet for me.” She moans again, and her cunt puckers, as if to grasp for something that’s not there. “Baby, your pussy wants something, doesn’t it?”

She moans again and nods her head “Yes... _Oh god,_ yes.”  Her pussy clenches again.

I huff, “Your cunt is literally puckering its little lips like it wants something.”

She buries her face in the sheets, embarrassed.

I can’t help but smile, “Clarke, don’t be shy. It’s so fucking hot.” She shakes her head and mumbles something into the mattress. I chuckle, “Does your pussy want some attention?”

She turns her head back to the side, her voice desperate, “Please!”

I stroke my cock (as if I could possibly be any harder) then line it up to her entrance. I slide the tip of my cock up and down her slit a few times before slowly pushing in. We release simultaneous moans as I feed more of my cock into her. Her mouth is open in an “O” shape, her eyes closed, her cheeks flushed. 

"God, you're fucking beautiful..." She shivers at the praise.  

I pull back out slowly, again mesmerized by the view of her pussy as it accepts my cock. For some reason I'm obsessively entranced by the way her inner lips stretch out around me as I draw out – Something about the thin, shiny skin looks as magnificent as it feels around my sensitive flesh. She moans shakily when I reach down and lightly stroke it.

“Did I hurt you?” I ask her, curious.

She shakes her head, “No, doesn’t hurt. I just didn’t expect it, that’s—mmph!” She doesn’t finish the sentence as I plunge back into her. I draw back out and repeat the touching motion, just lightly stroking the skin along the circumference of my shaft.

“Does it feel good?”

She nods, her hands fisting into the sheets. “It feels… intriguing… Like when you taste a new seasoning on a familiar food. When you’re pulling out all slowly—mmm—like that—I get a chance to just _feel_ all of you inside of me—and now you’re touching that little spot on the outside too...  and it’s really good."

The sounds she makes are hypnotizing. Every time I draw out, I shift my finger to stroke a different spot, not wanting to concentrate too much on one area of skin. The sliver of flesh is so delicate, I don’t want to chafe it. Just lightly _touch_ it. As the tempo of my thrusts speeds up, the fine movements required to stimulate her that way become impossible, but there are new sensations overwhelming both of us by that point.

Clarke's voice is musical as she chants a chorus of indulgence, “Oh, god... Bell... that... _”_

I can’t help but harmonize with praises of my own, “You feel so fucking good… Fuck, baby… You look like a goddess…” Being inside of her is like a spiritual assault in the most blissful way.

“I need—I need— _”_ she almost sobs.

“I know, I know. Use your hand and touch your clit for me…  Make yourself come.”

She complies and a whole new level of pleasure takes her over. As we get closer to climax, I feel her tighten around me while she clenches her free fist in the sheets.  Her blonde hair sticks to the sweat on her forehead while cries of pleasure escape her. 

Her walls flutter around my cock, "Come on, you're close, baby, I can feel it... I want to feel you come on my cock, now!”

I bury myself deep and she cries out in ecstasy as her cunt spasms around my cock and takes me right over the edge with her. I can’t control the moans that come from my own throat as the white hot pleasure overcomes me, her inner walls squeezing me as I spill myself into her. I collapse for a moment before I roll onto my back next to her and pull her down onto my chest. Our chests heave, our breaths come fast and heavy as we come back down.

“Fuck… You’re perfect.” I look down at her, and she has a look of adoration on her face that makes my breath catch in my throat.

“You’re amazing, Bell.” She smiles and closes her eyes. We just lay there for a while while we recover.

I wasn’t kidding when I said I have no plans of letting her leave my bed today. And if this morning was any indication, I don’t think she’ll fight me on it.

* * *

We are still resting in the position we took after our wake-up romp in the sheets. We lie in comfortable silence while just basking in each other. Clarke’s head rests on my chest, her hand over my heart with my own hand covering it. I trail the fingers of my free hand up and down her back.

It is nice to just feel each other, and I'm pleased that she's so content to let me hold her. It isn’t something I will ever take for granted with Clarke. When we met, she had difficulty with physical contact. Her relationship with her parents was, for lack of a better word, complicated.

Her relationship with her Abby was tense before her parents' divorce, and turned downright sour in the aftermath.  Abby may not have physically hit her, but her actions and decisions in Clarke's teen years battered her soul.  After the separation, Jake was driven away. I don’t know all the details, but Clarke felt abandoned by him, deeply hurt that he didn’t fight harder for custody. This treatment during her formative years did a number on her ability to accept love from others.  

Clarke and Jake reconnected when she was in college, only to be killed in a car accident in the summer before Clarke’s junior year. After Jake died, contact between Clarke and Abby became nonexistent for several years. Eventually, sometime after Alex was born, Clarke sought out her only remaining parent. She and Abby made great strides in repair of their relationship, but the damage to Clarke’s psyche was pervasive. I’m curious as to where they stand now.

As comfortable as our silence is, I’ve missed _talking_ to Clarke. I miss hearing her voice.

* * *

 [Clarke POV]

Bellamy's graveled voice snaps me out of my blissed-out thoughts.  “I missed you.”

I caress his skin with my thumb, “I missed you too, Bellamy.”

“I get why you needed to get away from Lexa. I do. But why did you cut me out, too? You knew she and I weren’t close."  His laugh is sardonic, "I mean fuck, she hated me.”

That isn’t a lie. Lexa never failed to rip on Bellamy’s tendency to wear his emotions on his sleeve. His hot-headedness was, in her opinion, the epitome of “weakness.” Bellamy was always a passionate person. He had a habit of voicing his convictions, loudly and with little regard for what people around him felt. He and I usually agreed on big things – moral arguments, political views, things like that. But there were little things that we would clash over in the most asinine manner. Things like the virtues of daylight saving time or whether it was wasteful to have a Costco membership for a single person. They were inconsequential in the big scheme of things, but I could never seem to just “let it go” when he was _just so wrong_.

We once made the mistake of accompanying each other to IKEA. It has since been referred to as “The 2007 Incident.” The details are hazy, but he had to call a friend for a ride home after security escorted us from the building. We made up after a few days, but I’ve been wary of Swedish furniture ever since.

“I know, Bellamy. But I didn’t know how else to get free of her. Do you know how many times I tried to leave _just_ Lexa?" I sigh, "She is a master manipulator. She was always using you, or Raven, or the others to get to me. She used you for information, and you didn’t even know she was doing it. She would find ways to insert herself back into my life, like crashing coffee dates with Raven, or showing up at gatherings she wasn’t invited to. Every time I came across someone from the group, Lexa would somehow show up again within DAYS. At first I thought you all might literally be spying for her. She had me that paranoid. But, I realized she’s very gifted at using people. She has this _way_ of making people talk without even realizing it… You know?”

“Yeah, Clarke, but she didn’t talk to me. I never told her anything.”

“But the others did. They talked to you. And Lexa talked to them.”

“I didn’t know. If I’d known—”

“Bellamy, I couldn’t ask you to leave them. They needed you. You were the only voice of reason in that shit show. They needed you.”

He was quiet for a while. “What about what I needed?”

I lift my head up so I can look him in the eye. I gaze at him for a while, studying his face and the somber expression he wears.

“I didn’t think that you needed _me_.”

“You didn’t even ask.” He looks so _sad,_ and my heart breaks for him. I hate that _I_ am the reason for the sorrow etched on his features.

“I’m so sorry, Bellamy.” I can’t hold back tears. “I’m so sorry.”

“Clarke, I didn’t mean to make you cry. Really, I’m not trying to make you feel bad about it. Like I said, I get it. I just wish you’d given me the chance.”

“The chance for what, Bellamy?”

“I don’t know... The chance to not lose you.”

He brushes the tears from my cheeks with his thumb and I give him a small smile. I cup his face with my hand and lean up to touch his lips with mine. It’s just a brief kiss, a small gesture.

“It sucked not having you around.  God, it sucked. But in my time by myself, I was able to figure out who I was. I became a _mother_ , Bellamy. And I'm so incredibly proud of that.” I can’t fight the smile that I feel spreading across my cheeks as I think about Alex. “I had someone to live for, to take care of. I'm a really good mom, Bellamy. I think that if I hadn’t left, I would still be the emotional and psychological wreck I was when I left. The courts would have taken Alex in the custody battle... That was the deciding factor in leaving everyone. I was in a bad place, and I wasn’t going to get out of it while Lexa was still in my life.”

“I didn’t realize she was so bad.”

“The woman is a mindfuck. When I’m away from her, I can think clearly, rationally. When she’s around, I lose myself. She had this ability to effortlessly convince me that I needed her, that Alex needed her. Lexa’s voice in my ear - it made the custody battle with Alex’s father so much harder than it needed to be."  I sigh, "All Nate has ever wanted is to be part of Alex’s life, but from the get-go, Lexa had me convinced that Nate and his family were trying to get rid of me.”

“Yeah, I remember.”

“They weren’t. I know, you told me that, and you were right... Nate and his family wanted to have Alex in their lives, and when I looked back on it, nothing they did or said ever indicated that they wanted me out of the picture. And Bellamy, they have been so wonderful.”

“So things are good, with you guys? Like, with Nate?”  His grip on my body tightens just slightly when he says Nate's name. 

“Yeah, they’re good. We have a great working co-parent relationship. Nate and I became friends."  I huff a laugh, "It took a long time, but we got there. We made the decision early on that we wouldn’t try to get back together. Alex didn’t deserve to get her hopes up, only to have them dashed later. We aren’t compatible on a romantic level. His fiancé, Jane, is such an awesome woman. I couldn’t ask for a better future stepmom for Alex."

"Who is Jane?"

"She was a colleague of mine, and I introduced her to Nate a while back. It grew from there.” I have another smile on my face, because they have been a truly good presence in my life. “Nate’s parents helped me get on my feet, and they been so supportive."  I sigh, "When I left, I was struggling in a deep depression. They suggested I see a therapist so I could try and sort things out. They even paid for my appointments for a year. It was one of the best things I could have done – having a professional to help me figure out how to reconcile my past so I can be a better person, not just for me, but for the people I love.”

“I wish I could have been there for you. I wish I could’ve helped you.”

“Only _I_ could help me. I needed to do it on my own. I needed to heal and take accountability for myself and my actions.”

“I’m really proud of you.  Shit, I don’t want to sound condescending... Impressed is maybe a better word.”

I feel tears well up behind my eyes. “Thank you, Bell.”

“I mean it. You’re strong. I am really proud of you. It sucked not having you around, but I’m really glad you’re in a better place. I’m glad I have you back now.”

“I am, too. If I hadn’t left, I don’t think we ever would have made it to where we are right now... In this exact moment.”

“Basking in post-orgasmic bliss?” The smile on his face makes my heart skip a beat.

“Yeah, that.” I lean up and kiss him again. “I’ve never, ever felt anything like I did last night. It was like you were in my head.”

“It was good, yeah?” He gives me a shit-eating grin, and I roll my eyes playfully at his well-deserved smugness.

Still, I can't fight the purely satisfied smile, “Unprecedented.”

“It was fucking fantastic for me, too.”

“Yeah? Because, to be honest, I was so blissed out by it all that I don’t remember doing _anything_ for you.”

He shakes his head in response. “Trust me, you _were_ everything. That’s part of why the dynamic works for me."  He pauses a moment, "I get off on control. And _you_ submitting like you did – giving up your control to  _me?_  That's a source of unparalleled pleasure in itself.”

I nod, smiling peacefully when I think about how free I felt last night.

He continues, “It works the same way for you. I know you, Clarke. You spend all day making decisions that keep people alive. You’re a parent, and a doctor – you have to be in control all the damn time. You need relief from the stress.”

I sigh in agreement, “The weight of responsibility sometimes feels like it’s crushing me.” I think about the life-and-death decisions I have to make for my obstetric patients. The days when I wish I could just let someone else take over. “It's not easy being in charge.” That’s an understatement. “I'm really good at what I do, but I find myself unraveling at the edges after a while.”

“So come to me. Let me take care of you. You submit to me, put control in my hands. Then you get to let go..."  His voice is low, "Let me make you feel good.

I nod, “I feel liberated, which seems counter-intuitive, because I’m under your control. But that’s how you made me feel last night.  I consider the word again,  _liberated..._ "You gave me freedom, Bellamy.”

Bellamy shifts his body so he hovers above me. He brushes the hair out of my eyes and looks down at me like I hung the moon in the sky. My heart clenches at the sight of the man above me. I lean up to capture his lips with mine. He reciprocates with enthusiasm and ignites a yearning inside of me.

I bring my arms up to embrace him and pull him as close to me as possible. He's already getting hard, and I know I’m getting wetter by the second. He brings a hand between us and my legs fall wide open.  I give him a moan as I feel his fingers part my slick folds.

He chuckles, “Eager, are we?”  I roll my eyes, but can't stifle the smile on my face. 

“Shut up and fuck me, Bellamy.”

“As you wish,” he answers with a smirk in his deep voice that sets my heart racing.

Bellamy lines himself up to my entrance and places the tip of his cock just inside of me. He pulls me into a passionate kiss as he slowly pushes into me, and takes my fucking breath away. The way his lips move with mine makes me forget there is anything in the world but the two of us. For just a moment, nothing matters but this, right here, right now. He moves within me, fucks me with a rhythm that has me coming apart quickly.

“I wanna fuck you deeper, Princess.” His voice drips like honey on my skin.

I nod my head frantically, envious of his ability to formulate a complete sentence right now, when the pleasure coiling inside me makes it difficult for me to articulate anything beyond a few syllables. That doesn’t mean I won’t try...

He hooks his hand under my knee and wraps my calf around his waist. He does the same with my other leg, but hooks it higher up his back. “Oh my god, right there, Bell.”

“You like that, Princess? You like my cock buried in your wet cunt?”

“Holy FUCK, Bellamy, yes I love it.” He drives  _hard_ into me, over and over again.

“Tell me, tell me how you love it. I want to hear it.” His voice is desperate and demands a response.

“I love how big you are, how much you’re stretching me out right now.”

“ _Fuck_ , Princess, dirtier. Talk dirty to me. Open your eyes, Clarke, and tell me everything."  I snap my gaze to his and a bolt of unbridled lust shoots through me as he takes me in.  

“Oh, god, Bellamy, I love your huge fucking cock pounding into me...  I want you so bad... always..." My breath catches in my throat, "I'm fucking desperate for you, like you've turned me into a-"

“You’re a _what_ , Princess? What are you?” He pounds furiously into me now, his dark eyes are intense, threatening to tear into my soul.

I shake my head, “I’m—I can’t say it!”

“Yes you can, Clarke! Say it! WHAT. ARE. YOU?” He punctuates each word with a deep thrust.

I shake my head, "I can't!”

“SAY. IT.” His thrusts are frantic and I’m nearing the edge.  He softens his voice, but is no less demanding,  “Just say it and come for me, Clarke.... Come on Princess, say it. You’re _what_ for me?”  With his demands, my orgasm builds faster, stronger, and I don't know that I can hold it back.  

I whimper, “Oh god, I’m so close!”

“Tell me what you are and I’ll let you come.” I’m overwhelmed by the sexual freedom I feel right now.  I know what he wants me to say, and although it scares me a little, I really, _really_ want to say it...

“For you, I’m a SLUT, okay?!” I scream it at him, my breaths ragged and voice hoarse.

His grin is victorious, “Yeah, you are... MY slut... Mine, and _only_  mine..."  His authoritative tone nearly undoes me. "You’re such a good girl. Now come for me, Clarke! Come apart on my cock, let me feel it.”  

He draws me into another mind-blowing kiss as I fall apart underneath him. His thrusts become erratic as he nears his own end. With three final, hard thrusts, I feel him empty himself deep inside of me as he growls out a hoarse yell. Squeezing him hard with my arms and legs, I try to bring him as close to me as possible while my inner walls draw everything out of him... He collapses on top of me, and I relish the feeling of being crushed by his body. Sure, breathing is a little difficult right now, but I just need to keep him here for just a little while.

He finally rolls off of me after kissing me deeply, groaning as he pulls out of me. “God, you’re incredible. Clarke.”

I can’t formulate a thought just yet, so I nod somehow manage to slur the word, “ _You.._.” He nods and seems to be satisfied with that.

After a few minutes of recovery, we are finally... still. It is quiet and serene, which makes it all the more embarrassing when my stomach growls loudly in hunger.

I chuckle, “Shit, I need to eat something.” He hops out of the bed, in all his naked glory, and grabs a plate of food and water glasses. He pours a glass of water and hands it to me, which I begin to greedily drink down.   I take some bites of the scones (and wondering where the hell he got _scones_ ) and can't suppress the delicious groans that escape me as I taste them, “Mmmm, this is perfect.”

“You’re perfect.” I roll my eyes at how cheesy he sounds.

“I didn’t realize how hungry I am.”

He smirks, “I’m hungry too. But I’m thinking I want to eat something else,” His tone is suggestive as hell as he gives me a vulgar once-over. 

“You… do?” I feel myself blush a violent shade of red.  He brings a hand to my cheek and strokes it with the back of his index finger while gazing hungrily into my eyes.

“I do, Princess, now hurry the hell up and finish eating,” he tells me with a smile while he trails his hand down my chest, brushing over my abdomen, and settling just above my mound. “I’m hungry…”

Suddenly, I’ve had enough to eat. Handing him the plate, and feeling kind of bold, I tell him “Then get to it, already.” I shriek as he tosses the plate to the side and attacks my neck while pushing me down into the bed…

I’m perfectly happy to satisfy this appetite of his…

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not to worry - I'll have a graphic eating-out scene in the next chapter. I've got stuff I've gotta finish today that doesn't involve sitting at my computer, and the chapter was getting really long... 
> 
> I hope to be able to update chapters regularly, but sometimes life gets in the way... 
> 
> I always see authors ask for reviews, saying it's like feeding a muse - and I didn't realize how absolutely true that is until last chapter! Again, this whole thing is new to me, but I'm enjoying the process so far. I certainly would NEVER demand reviews as a condition for the next chapter. That would be shitty. But, I found that they are highly motivating, so maybe it will help me get chapters out faster? :-)
> 
> Constructive criticism always appreciated.


	9. that's a promise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Have you ever had anyone clean honey off of your naked body?”
> 
> She shakes her head.
> 
> “It gets really sticky. I’ll have to lick you for a long time to get it all off.”  
> \---  
> (Or, Bellamy spends some quality time exploring and teasing Clarke into oblivion... And, he finally gets to use the honey jar.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just under 3k words of Bellamy going down on Clarke... Enjoy  
> Nothing heavy here (still the morning after).

_“Then get to it, already…”_

Clarke’s shriek of surprise devolves into a full bellied laugh as I pin her down into the bed and feast on her neck. I love that she can laugh in bed. I missed her laugh. Even before she left, I hadn’t heard her truly laugh in a long time, and it’s like music to my ears. I prop myself up on my elbows so I can look down at her, and I can’t help but smile at the disheveled look she wears. Her hair is a wild mess, and I love it this way. I brush the stray curls out of her face. I feel a sense of animalistic pride when I get a look at the purpling marks I left on her neck last night.

She furrows her brows, “What? Why did you stop?” She wiggles her hips up into mine, attempting to spring me into action.

I shake my head, “This is _my_ playtime, Princess.”

She groans in response while squirming under me. I get back up on my knees and pull her into a seated position while I think of where I want her to be while I taste her fall apart on my tongue. I rip all the covers off the bed and toss them to the floor. I move her so that she’s diagonal on the bed, and once she’s on her back again, she’ll be able to reach one of the bedposts with her hands. The honey jar on the dresser catches my eye, so I jump off the bed to go grab it. As I walk back to the bed, I take a good look at Clarke. I rake my eyes over her naked body, sitting upright, her legs pressed together and bent slightly at the knees, straight arms propping her up behind her. Her body is bare to me and she’s unashamed as my gaze zeroes in on her beautiful, voluptuous breasts.

Clarke stares at my dick and biting her lip. “See something you want, Clarke?”

She rolls her eyes, “Eventually, you’re going to let me take care of you.”

“All in due time, Princess. All in due time.” She sees the honey jar in my hands and her eyes widen while her brows rise on her forehead. “Have you ever had anyone clean honey off of your naked body?”

She shakes her head.

“It gets _really_ sticky. I’ll have to lick you for a _long_ time to get it all off.” A shiver runs through her whole body. I crawl across the bed until I’m directly in front of her, then straighten her legs out and place my knees on either side of her thighs. With my hand between her breasts, I gently push her down so that she sinks back into the bed. I hover over her and whisper in her ear, “That’s a promise.” She inhales deeply and her breasts rise until her pebbled nipples are brushing my chest.  I suckle her neck again and she exhales loudly.

“Hands above your head, and hang onto the bedpost.” She obeys quickly, her hands feeling around to try and find purchase on the bedpost. She gives a frustrated growl, so I trail my fingers up the exposed undersides of her arms and guide them to the post. It’s wide and she’s not able to wrap her hands around it, so she settles for placing them on either side of the post. Satisfied with her compliance, I make my way back down her body. My hands travel over her exposed skin, my fingertips tracing a path along the discolored skin on her neck. I sweep them down farther, past her shoulders, down her sides, over her abdomen, and back to her chest so my hands can cup the soft flesh of her voluptuous breasts.

I lay kisses over her face – her forehead, cheeks, nose, chin, but skipping her lips. She tries to move her head to meet my lips and I shake my head before moving down to place more kisses down her neck. I knead the flesh of her irresistible tits and she moans loudly in response. I nibble at the soft skin around her nipples, purposely avoiding them and she twists slightly at the shoulders in an attempt to guide them where she wants.

I chuckle softly at her efforts, “Patience, Princess. You know I'll take care of you”

She responds with a frustrated moan, but relaxes nonetheless. I return my attention to her breasts, moving my mouth to her right one, then I suck harshly at the skin just below the nipple, biting down to trap the flesh between my teeth. She moans loudly as she arches into me. After I’m done, I take a look at my mark with a satisfied grin.

“Oh _please_ ,” she rolls her eyes like she’s trying to feign composure, but the last word tumbles from her lips breathlessly.  

I am amused by her attempts to provoke me, “Bet you didn’t mean for that to sound so desperate, did you?”

She shoots me an exasperated glare, which I return with a teasing smirk. I sit up and grab the honey jar. As I open it up, she stares at it and licks her lips. I dip a finger into the jar to pull out some of the sweet syrup. “What, you want a taste?” She nods with a dark seductive look that makes my cock twitch. She feels it against her thigh and smirks in triumph. I hover my honey-coated finger over her face so that some of it trickles onto her chin, then her lower lip. She holds her tongue out to taste it on its way to her upper lip. I wipe my finger off on her neck. Her fiery gaze is locked on mine as she drags her tongue across her upper lip, and I can’t stop myself from plunging down to feast on her mouth. I bite at her lower lip, then soothe it with my tongue as I lick the sweet taste off her lip, then move down to her chin to do the same. I repeat the action along the honey streak on her neck, pausing to suck at one of the marks I adorned her with last night.

I sit back up and dip two fingers back into the jar and pull up a dollop of the viscous fluid. I dribble it, leaving a generous coat over her nipple, then across her chest to the other nipple. She looks entranced by the pale syrup trickling off my fingers. Satisfied with the coating of honey on her nipples, I put my fingers to her lips. She opens them and licks the honey off the tips, again with that tempting gleam in her eyes as she meets mine.

“Suck.” One word, and she lifts her head up to take the length of my fingers into her mouth. She sucks gently, simultaneously massaging my digits with her tongue to clean them of the sticky fluid.

She closes her eyes and moans with a long, _“Mmmmm_ ,” and I can feel the vibrations on my fingers. She rotates her head a few times, then twists the muscle of her tongue between my fingers. I groan loudly at the mere thought of her mouth on my cock. Satisfied that my fingers are clean enough, she pulls her mouth from my fingers, maintaining a firm suction, ending with a “pop” sound at the end.

She smiles in feigned innocence, “Like that?”

My cock hardens painfully and my head is buzzing. “Yeah, like that.” My voice cracks, so I clear my throat before continuing. “I think I still have something to clean up myself,” I smirk as I make my way down to her nipple. I take it into my mouth, sucking hard, then soothingly laving my tongue over it. I lick and suck until the honey is cleaned off, then lick across her chest until I reach the other nipple. She groans and writhes beneath me as I give repeat the treatment, this time ending with a strong suction so that when I finally release it, I hear a “pop” sound similar to the one she made on my fingers. It glistens, coated in saliva. I blow on it and it hardens while she moans and arches her chest up again. I return to her other nipple and take it in my mouth again so that I can get it wet. When I blow on it, it hardens just like its twin.

I look up at her and she’s a sight to behold – hair wild, eyes closed, skin flushed and glowing with a light sheen of sweat, tongue dragging along her upper lip. She _looks_ like _sex._ I sit back on my heels and spread her legs apart before crawling between them. Her pink folds open up to me, glistening in the light. Her cunt is delectable, and my mouth waters in anticipation.

I catch her looking up at herself in the mirror above the bed and give her a lopsided grin when she looks back at me. “Nice view, isn’t it?”

She waggles her eyebrows at me and grins back.

I hook my hand under a knee and bend it, laying soft kisses to the inside of her legs. She shivers as I ask against her skin, “How long has it been since you’ve been eaten out, Princess?”

“A long time… Years.”

I give her a sympathetic frown, “That’s sad.”

She scoffs, “Want to know what’s sadder? I’ve never actually had an orgasm when someone went down on me. I always fake it.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Is that right?”

She shrugs and rolls her eyes, “Yeah… I’ve never really been a fan of it.”

I pause a minute and look at her again, “You sounded pretty excited about it earlier.”

She shrugs again, “Because it’s you.”

I feel my heart fall into a crazy rhythm at her admission, feeling a certain satisfaction in knowing I have this power, this dominion over her pleasure.

“I’ll take care of you.” I smile gently, “You know what this means?”

“Um, that you’ll give me yet another mind-blowing orgasm?”

“Well, obviously. But I’m thinking about more than that.”

“Like?”

I feel a mischievous grin form on my face. “No one else has _tasted you come_.” As if I’m not already possessive enough of her…

I rub my hands up and down her inner thighs, entranced by the glistening flesh at the apex of her thighs. I look back up at her face, and she bites her lip again, looking down at me nervously. I can see her fingers trying to grasp at the bedpost between her hands. Then, after a thick swallow, she takes a deep breath and dons a self-assured expression. The transformation of emotions on her face is remarkable – the way she seamlessly changes her demeanor from anxious to composed.

“You should be honored, then,” she tells me with a smirk. There’s still an underlying apprehension in her voice as she attempts to maintain a confident exterior.

“You have no idea, Princess.” I dip my head down, bringing my face to the level of her heat. I slide onto my stomach and inch my way backwards until I’m the perfect distance from her cunt. I just have to lean forward and I can feast on her, but I only need to lean back a little bit to take in the full view of this writhing blonde in front of me. I slowly slide my hands along her inner thighs, spreading her legs wider for me.

I part her lips with my fingers, then hold her open with one hand. I rest a finger at the opening of her cunt. I see her walls clenching in anticipation, as if they are trying to draw my finger in. I lower my head to her pussy and repeat the same torment, but with my tongue this time – pressing it lightly to her entrance and holding it there, motionless. She writhes underneath me, so I press a forearm firmly over her pelvis to hold to her still.

With the tip of my tongue, I lick at her inner lips, then dip it in to lap up the fluids collected at her entrance. I flatten my tongue again, licking fiercely in a long line from her taint up the length of her cunt, stopping just before I reach her clit. I then use the firm tip of my tongue caress the flesh between her swollen outer lips and her clit, massaging small circles into the sensitive tissue.

I glance up and Clarke is losing her shit. She moans wildly, her fingers desperately trying to find a grip on the bedpost above her.

“Please, Bellamy, pl—” I cut her off by drawing her clit into my mouth, sucking with a firm tug. She actually _screams_ in relief. After a minute of generous stimulation, I feel her body tense up.

I release her clit, then I shake my head and softly whisper against her cunt, “You know the rule, Princess.”

She nods furiously, “I know, no coming until you say so,— _Oh GOD, oh...”_ I lay off her clit and swirl my tongue into her entrance to collect more of the fluids that continue to gather there. I press my thumbs into her cunt and spread her open, dipping my tongue inside so I can lick far down into her depths. I rotate the muscle of my tongue to stroke vigorously at her inner walls as she releases a throaty moan that has my cock twitching painfully into the bed underneath me. With my tongue still penetrating her pussy, I withdraw my fingers, allowing her warm velvety walls to close around my tongue.

I twist my tongue in a spiral motion as I withdraw it from her needy cunt, unapologetic for the loud slurping sound. Clarke groans, tries desperately to free her hips from my hold. I ease two fingers into her cunt and draw her clit back into my mouth. I stroke at her inner walls, meticulously seeking that spongy knot of nerves that will drive her wild with pleasure. When I find it, she bucks her hips up with a jolt. I crook my fingers and vigorously work them back and forth over that sensitive bundle of nerves deep inside her pussy. I suckle and tug at her clit, soothing it with my tongue while maintaining suction. Her whole body thrashes on the bed, but she does a remarkable job keeping her hands on the bedpost.

“Bellamy, I’m so close!” The tension in her neck from trying to hold back her climax looks almost painful. The tendons are pulled so tight, they look like they might burst from their attachments. I pull my tongue away for a minute, but replace it with gentle strokes of my thumb.

“Okay Princess, here’s what you’re going to do. I’m going to impale your warm, wet cunt with my famished tongue. I want to feel you and taste you as you come apart on my mouth.”

She groans loudly and shamelessly as I stroke her mind with my lewd words of adoration.

“Are you with me, Clarke?”

She nods frantically, “Yeah, I’m with you.”

“When I tap your hip three times, that means you have my permission to cum. Do you understand?”

She nods and digs her head back to the mattress below her.

“How many taps to come?”

“Three! _”_

I plunge my tongue deep into her cunt, massaging her walls with firm strokes of my tongue. I rotate the muscle, probing the expanse of her dripping, velvety walls as she releases furious screams of pleasure.

“Oh, _please_ let me come, please, I’m begging you!” Her voice is hoarse, breathless, and desperate.

I give her three unmistakable taps to the hip and she lets herself go. She screams out loud in rapture, repeating the words, _“Fuck… Bellamy… Yes… Fuck…”_ in a melodious litany. I feel her cunt clench down rhythmically on my tongue as a gush of her wetness graces my mouth. I slurp it up loudly as she continues to writhe on my bed.

I sit up so I can get a good look at my efforts. Not ready to leave her empty just yet, I slide my fingers back up into her cunt and gently rock them within her while she rides out her orgasm. She is so fucking beautiful like this, sprawled out and uninhibited, anchoring herself desperately to my bedposts, completely and utterly _fucked_.

And it’s all my doing.

I can feel the smug grin on my face as I watch her come back to reality. I slow down my finger thrusts as she comes to, stopping them altogether once she opens her eyes. I pull my fingers from her pussy, dripping obscenely with her juices, and drag them up to her mouth. She obediently parts her lips and picks her head up to close them around my fingers. Just like she did with the honey, she laves her tongue along and between my fingers, and when she closes her eyes and hums as she sucks and licks, my mouth drops open of its own accord.

This woman will be the death of me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please feel free to leave KUDOS and COMMENTS!!! - They keep me going.


	10. how remarkable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flashback: Clarke's pregnancy and birth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been on a roll - the words keep coming, so I'll keep writing.  
> So, this isn't a smutty chapter, so my apologies. But, it does move the plot along. We get some background on Clarke and her daughter (Alex), and Bellamy's role in the pregnancy and birth.  
> Warning: birth scene. Shouldn't be too disturbing, but I am a nurse, so my concept of 'graphic' may be a bit skewed...

“Alex, breakfast is on the table!” I call my seven year-old daughter down to eat.

I don’t have a naturally domestic bone in my body. Give me a placenta previa patient, and I can tell you exactly how to handle it. But breakfast? Let’s just say that cereal is my friend.

When I got pregnant, one of the things that genuinely concerned me was whether I would remember to feed my child. I killed houseplants on a regular basis, how the fuck was I supposed to nurture a human being?

* * *

 

The existence of my daughter is, for lack of a better word, remarkable. “ _Remarkable_ ” is a term commonly associated with Alex, starting with her conception. I can tell you the exact night it happened because it was the five-year anniversary of my dad’s death. I don’t typically meet a guy in a bar and fuck him the same night, but that wasn’t a typical night…

Fast forward three weeks, and I’m in the ER for unexplained head pain and dizziness. The nurse asked “How long have you been pregnant?” I told her to check her fucking paperwork, because there was no possible way I could be pregnant. I was on birth control but still used condoms, and when one of the rubbers broke, I hastily procured Plan B the next morning. So, yeah, pregnancy was the last thing on my mind. She only asked because according to bloodwork in the ER, my hCG levels were “slightly elevated.” I hadn’t missed a period, and the levels were so low they would have been undetectable on a home pregnancy test. They did a transvaginal ultrasound (which, _awkward –_ sticking a long plastic apparatus up my vag was not how I planned to spend the evening). They couldn’t locate a heartbeat, and there were concerns of an ectopic pregnancy. The doctors had me terrified that my fallopian tubes were about to explode.

Bellamy was my saving grace, the soothing voice to counteract my frantic thoughts. They eventually sent me home, since I had zero symptoms of burst fallopian tubes (interestingly, they never addressed the dizziness). They gave me a list of symptoms to watch for, and scheduled more tests and ultrasounds. After I was discharged, I had Bellamy take me to the grocery store, where I bought out the entire shelf of pregnancy tests. I went home and took three of them and he sat with me while each one came back negative. Every night, for a week, Bellamy came to my apartment, holding me in his arms on the bathroom floor while I waited so we could read the test results. He was sitting with me when the tests finally came back positive. “ _You’re going to be okay, Clarke. I know you, Clarke. You can handle this. You’ve got this_.”

He was in the room when the ultrasound technician finally found a heartbeat. He laughed with me when my first reaction was “ _Well, fuck_.” He held me when the realization that I was _actually pregnant_ set in, caressing my arms and wiping away the tears I couldn’t hold back. When I told the conception details to my new OB, he told me “Wow. That fetus is remarkable.”

I was overwhelmed, trying to reconcile contradicting emotions. The thought of motherhood was daunting. I was afraid to tell my mother, and even more terrified that I would _become_ my mother.

I was about to start my fourth year of medical school. To say that the timing of this pregnancy was _shit_ would be a gross understatement. I strongly considered terminating the pregnancy. I had even scheduled the procedure, but the morning of the appointment, I couldn’t bring myself to walk into the building. Instead, I drove to campus and spoke with my advisor, who told me it would be tough, but it was possible to finish out my final year of med school. The spring term would be a concern, as I was due at the end of March, but my advisor said we would be able to accommodate the birth and some maternity leave by rearranging clinical rotations.

Bellamy helped me locate Nate, the baby-daddy, a few weeks later. I informed Nate of the pregnancy right before school started. Nate was supportive of whatever I decided to do, but assured me that if I kept the baby, he would be part of the child’s life. I told Lexa next. She was hurt that I didn’t tell her right away, and I felt terrible about that. In retrospect, I realize she used my feelings of guilt to manipulate me. She convinced me that Nate’s assurances were a veiled threat, that he would be making moves to take Alex from me. She was pissed that Bellamy helped me find Nate, and jealous that Bellamy knew first. Lexa didn’t see a reason for my mother to know, so I didn’t tell her.

My pregnancy was incredibly easy to hide. I’d always had big boobs, so by wearing flowy tops, I was able to conceal the baby bump. I told instructors, but my classmates were none the wiser until about mid-January. Eventually the baby bump was too prominent even for oversized scrubs. The pregnancy itself was going smoothly. Miraculously, I didn’t have morning sickness. Aside from the swell in my abdomen, I didn’t have typical pregnancy symptoms. This was advantageous when it came to my studies.  

Bellamy and Lexa came with me to doctor appointments and birthing classes. We got some questioning looks from other parents in the classes, unsure of what to make of this group of three. They toured hospitals and birthing centers with me, helped me come up with my birth plan. I had support. Bellamy took the “I’ll support you no matter what” approach. Lexa was far more influential, “helping” me make decisions. She was suspicious of Nate’s motives, therefore I was suspicious. She felt it would be best to keep Nate and his family out of the loop, so I agreed. Looking back, I have no idea _why_ the fuck I listened to her. Nothing she said was rational, but for some reason, I followed her suggestions without reservation.

* * *

When the pregnancy took a turn, Bellamy was there. Lexa was out of the country. When I went in for an emergency induction at 37 weeks gestation, effectively bulldozing my natural birth plan, he was the one reassuring me. _“You’ve got this, Clarke.”_ He was my rock. On leap day in 2008, when it came time to deliver Alex, Bellamy’s soothing voice kept a steady tempo when I had to push and relaxed me when I needed to rest between contractions.

Because I was a first-time mom, I expected to have 1-2 hours of pushing. The nurse reassured us of this when she left the room, saying she’d be back to check my progress. 25 minutes later, Bellamy was putting a slippery newborn Alex on my bare chest, having _literally_ caught her on her way out. He quickly covered us with blankets so that she didn’t get cold.

“Holy fuck, Bell, your hands. Oh my god, your clothes! You have my blood all over you. _My_ blood!”

He laughs, “Really? you’re holding your newborn daughter and you’re concerned about my hands being dirty?” He had a point, but honestly, the complete disregard for standard precautions would have been disturbing for a hospital official to see.

Alex was sucking on her perfect little fist, her eyes squeezed closed. She was so quiet, and that scared me. We continued to hit the call button on the remote, then on the bed trying to get hold of the nurse and doctor.

Bellamy was about to call into the hallway, but I was getting panicky by Alex’s silence. “Is she breathing? Bellamy, is she breathing?” I was shaking too much to tell.

He took a closer look at her, “Yeah, Clarke, she’s breathing. Fuck, she’s perfect.”

“We have to stop cussing so much, or her first word will be ‘fuck.’” (Spoiler alert: it wasn’t.)

Okay, enough chit-chat. “Hand me the cord clamps off the delivery table that’s next to you, I need two of them,” I directed. He unwrapped the sterile packages and handed them to me. I locked one clamp close to Alex’s body, and locked the other one a little farther away. “Use those scissors and cut here between the clamps.” And just like that, the link between Alex and I was severed.

Soon, shit hit the fan. Bellamy’s voice took on a panicked quality as my body started shaking harder and the color left my skin. I was hemorrhaging (because of course I would hemorrhage when the doctor wasn’t in the room). I’d completed my obstetric clinical rotation in med school, and I knew what needed to happen. _Making_ it happen was a different story.

“How do we stop the bleeding?” He pleaded as I became more and more light-headed. He was yelling for help now. My body started shaking even more severely, and Alex started sliding off toward my side.

“Bellamy, hold her. You have to hold her. She’s about to fall.” He picked her up carefully and wrapped her little body in the oversized blankets.

“Oxytocin,” I told him. He repeated the word like a litany, _“Oxytocin, oxytocin, oxytocin._ ”

“Pitocin… synthetic oxytocin…” I told him.

“Fuck, okay. Yes, we have Pitocin. We have Pitocin, right?” He started reading off names of the various vials of medications next to the monitor (kind of a no-no in terms of hospital policy). He held one up, “Um, Terbutaline?”

“No, NO, _NOT_ terb.” That would have halted contractions, making the problem infinitely worse. I pointed tiredly up towards the IV pole above me. “Pitocin – my IV – Open the IV.”

“Clarke, what the fuck does that mean? What does ‘open the IV’ mean?”

I lacked the wherewithal (or the time) to talk him through changing the pump rate to 999 mL/hr, so I told him “get rid of the pump… pull my IV tube out of it... need free flow…” Thankfully he successfully translated my jibberish and somehow managed to one-handedly extricate the IV line from the pump. After that was done, I told him “Nurse… need… to nurse…”

“I’ve been yelling for the fucking nurse, Clarke. They’re coming. They’re coming. They have to be fucking coming.”

“No, no... Need _TO_ nurse… feed the baby.”

“Clarke, the baby is fine! You need to stop fucking bleeding!”

“No… breastfeeding – it releases oxytocin.”

“Fuck, you’re right, okay. What do you need me to do?”

I tried to hold my arms up to take Alex back into them so that I could try and get her to latch on. I found that my arms were like Jell-O. I couldn’t even lift them up, let alone hold Alex for her to nurse. “Bell, hold her up to me… help her latch on.” Without missing a beat, he ripped my gown back open, unwrapped Alex, and laid her across my bare chest, positioning her so she was facing my breast and lining up her nose in front of a nipple. Then like a fucking lactation specialist, he managed to express colostrum and rub it around the nipple. I managed to give a shaky laugh when he automatically justified it, “What? It makes her want it more.” He then shaped my breast so that Alex can get her mouth around the areola. He angled Alex so that her head tipped back, then her bottom lip caught my breast and Alex took over from there. Her latch was instantaneous, perfect the first time.  I thought to myself,  _how remarkable._ The rest of my breast was smothering Alex’s nose, so Bellamy held it taut while she suckled.

After that, I started to feel agonizing contractions again, which was a good sign, despite being painful as all fuck. Then, a horde of nurses and doctors _finally_ came rushing in. Every one of them wide-eyed in shock at the scene in front of them. Besides the blood all over the floor, I appeared to be in good shape, or at least getting there. I started trying to bark out orders as they came in – “WHERE THE _FUCK_ HAS EVERYONE BEEN? I NEED FUNDAL MASSAGE OVER HERE!  _RIGHT FUCKING NOW_!” A nurse immediately came and started manhandling my uterus, stimulating it to tighten up (and unleashing a world of pain, as if I wasn’t in enough pain already. It had to be done).

While the OB’s went to work delivering the placenta, a pediatrician (AKA a “peds doc”) came to the side of my bed, telling me she needed to take Alex for an examination. I was exhausted to actual tears at this point and still in a shitload of pain. I shook my head, “No, you _can’t._ ” I pleaded at Bellamy, “Bell, no, they _can’t_ take her now.” I was shaking my head furiously and Bellamy went instantly into protector mode.

The peds doc put her hands out in a placating manner telling us, “We’ll bring her right back, we just need to do a quick exam and make sure she’s healthy.”

Bellamy replied in a calm but menacing commanding voice, “You are _not_ going to take this baby from her mother’s arms. If you need to examine her, you can do it right fucking here, and only _after_ she’s finished her first feeding. Don’t. Fucking. Touch her.” The doctor opened her mouth to say something else but Bellamy cut her off with a level look, “ _Don’t_.” She nodded and smiled, “We’ll wait.” She took a few steps back from the bed and stood there for a moment. Not satisfied with her distance, Bellamy kept glaring at her until she made her way to the other side of the delivery room.

“Thank you,” I whispered.  

“You don’t need me. You’ve got this, princess.” He told me with a grin.

“Yeah, I’ve got this.” I nodded my head in agreement while I looked down at the nursing baby at my breast. “But I’m so glad I had you here.”

After they finished cleaning me up, one of the OB’s popped his head up to tell me “Your vagina is in fantastic shape. One stitch – you know, the ‘daddy stitch.’” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively at Bellamy. Bell just raised his eyebrows as if to say, “What the fuck?” and uncomfortably looked down at me. I wanted to crawl under a fucking rock at that moment.

* * *

I gazed down at Alex and brought my finger up to stroke her tiny hand. She wrapped her miniature fingers around mine, eyes still closed while she suckled. I _finally_ got to have that clichéd tender moment with my newborn daughter. It wasn’t exactly conventional, what with a man, who was not the child’s father, next to me, leaning on the bed with his hand on my boob. But still, Alex and I had a moment.

A nurse mentioned to another nurse, “We’ve got ourselves a leap-day baby. How remarkable!”

* * *

 

“I don’t _even_ want to know how you are so well-versed in lactation,” I told Bellamy.

He laughed, “YouTube.”

I raised an eyebrow at him. “You watch breastfeeding videos on YouTube in your spare time?”

He rolled his eyes but smiled, still gazing at Alex, “The instructor from our birth class emailed me a link.”

Then I started crying again, “You watched breastfeeding videos for me?”

He shrugged his shoulders, “Yeah.” Of course he did…

As everything was settling down, they changed all the sheets and procured some scrubs for Bellamy to change into. I wasn’t exaggerating before – he was _covered_ in blood. A nurse came in and mentioned to the attending physician that the Pitocin drip was not on the IV pump (which is a big no-no _during_ labor, but after labor I had been part of several deliveries where they opened the IV after delivery of the baby). Before she could even ask why it wasn’t on the pump, Bellamy piped up, “I had to open the goddamn IV because everyone was on a fucking coffee break while your patient was bleeding out.”

The attending, who knew me from my Obstetrics rotation, nodded at me. “This patient is Clarke Griffin. She probably told him to.” I nodded in confirmation. “Dr. Griffin had a rotation here.”

“Not a doctor yet,” I corrected.

“Oh, right. 4th year now?”

I nodded. I honestly didn’t care to continue the conversation, given that I was holding my newborn daughter, but I smiled anyway, hoping our exchange would come to a close soon so I could get back to my daughter.

The attending shook his head with a warm smile “You still going for OB?”

I nodded. “Match day is next month, so that’ll determine where I end up for my residency, but I’m hoping to get into the program here.”

He nodded with a big smile, “Well, let’s hope the NRMP algorithm agrees.” He was referring to the National Resident Matching Program, which uses a computerized algorithm to match med school grads to residencies all over the country. “You just saved your own damn life. Impressive.”

Bellamy scoffed beside me, clearly not impressed that I was put in the position to _have_ to save my own life. I couldn’t poke him to shut up, so I leaned my temple against his shoulder and shook my head. In the event that I got matched here, I did _not_ need to ruffle feathers before even walking through the door. He must have understood that, because he quickly plastered a smile on his face. “Thanks for everything, doc.”

The nurse next to us nodded down at Alex with a warm smile, “Technically, _she_ saved your life.” Which was true – the Pitocin bag was nearly empty when we opened the IV. The vigorous latch Alex achieved did wonders to stimulate oxytocin production, which is what initiated the contractions needed to curb the hemorrhage. “That is a _remarkable_ little girl you have there.” There was that word again. _Remarkable._

* * *

Today, _remarkable_ is still an accurate description of my daughter. I may be biased, I am her mother, but others consistently recognize her unique characteristics. People who know her call her “The Tiny Feminist” as she campaigns for equal rights in 1st grade.  She argues that it’s unjust that boys get to wear pants as part of their uniform, while girls have to wear skirts. Her ability to keep up, even outdo, adults in witty banter, is a constant source of amusement.

Like this morning, for example. She waltzes downstairs from my bedroom, where she was choosing accessories for her uniform, loudly voicing her concerns about breakfast, “Please mom, tell me you didn’t try to _cook_ breakfast. I need to go to school today, not get food poisoning.”

“Relax, progeny. It’s yogurt and blueberries. And some other fruit, too.”

“It’s a wonder I made it this long, mom. You’re a woman who can’t cook. What good could you possibly be?” She grins, as we both laugh at our self-deprecating and highly insensitive brand of humor.

“Careful, I can send you back to the kid farm.”

She swallows a spoonful of yogurt. “Psh, yeah right. I know you don’t want to do all that paperwork.”

“Actually, the paperwork was done. They won’t take you back. Something about disrupting the peace…”

“Sounds about right. Looks like you’re stuck with me.”

“Looks like I am...”

She gives me one of her breathtaking smiles, and my heart just about bursts out of my chest with love for this girl.

“I love you so fucking much, kid. You know that, right?”

“Yeah mom, I know. I love you like crazy. And you said ‘fuck’ again. Put a dollar in the swear jar.”

“You know, I’m gonna use all money that to take a trip to the Bahamas without you.”

“Probably only fair, since you’re the one who fills it up.”

I roll my eyes and smile at her.

She takes another bite of her yogurt, savoring the blueberries (her favorite fruit). "You know what would be good? Blueberry pancakes. Remember Bellamy? He made great blueberry pancakes."

At the mention of Bellamy’s name I drop my cup of orange juice in my lap…

I take a deep breath. “Well, funny you should mention Bellamy…”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY - so before you comment on how ridiculous and impossible the conception/pregnancy/birth story seems, IT ACTUALLY FUCKING HAPPENED, Like IRL. It was just too bizarre an experience to *not* include in a story somewhere. 
> 
>  
> 
> Reviews feed my muse, and KUDOS make me ridiculously happy!


	11. how about you describe them in detail?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some teasing texts between our favorite characters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: This chapter does mention spanking and punishments in a BDSM context. So, if that sort of thing upsets you, you might skip this chapter.

_“Well, funny you should mention Bellamy…”_

Alex completely disregards the fact that I am now wearing my orange juice, and jumps right into her usual inquisition. “Can we see him? I miss him… I bet he misses me too.” She hadn’t seen him since she was four (almost five) years old, but she had adored him. I’ve always wondered if she really remembered him, or if she just went off the stories I had written in her scrapbook. I don’t know how she remembered blueberry pancakes. I had forgotten about his blueberry pancakes, and that factoid wasn’t in her scrapbook.

Alex knows Bellamy is important, that he is special. As she used to remind me, “His hands were the first hands to ever hold me, mom. He’s important to me.” I would always feel a pang of guilt when she said that. She always used to ask me when we could see him. My standard answer had been ‘ _I’m not sure. We’ll have to work something out._ ’ She would have been devastated if I told her that seeing him again was unlikely, so I always left my answer open-ended, hoping one day she would stop asking.

I answered her from the kitchen, where I was fetching some towels. “I’m not sure, we’ll have to-“ I stop myself before finishing my automated answer. “Actually, I’ll text him and we’ll get the details together. He does miss you.”

“Wait, WHAT?!” She shrieked. “Did you see him?”

I popped my head back into the dining room, “We ran into each other at lunch the other day.”

“Awesome.” She does a little fist-bump, which is a new gesture for her. “I bet he’ll be surprised at how tall I am now.”

“I bet he will be.” The topic of seeing Alex again was broached over our weekend of shameless indulgence. I wasn’t sure when we’d next have the chance to get the three of us together. My schedule as a Fellow in Maternal Fetal Medicine was demanding. Alex has been so patient with me. Maybe it’s because she’s never known any different, but she’s taken my long work hours in stride. Her father and grandparents have always been there to pick up the slack, but I will probably always regret the time I didn’t have with her, especially during my residency years.

“When you text him, tell him I said hi and that I missed him. Actually, I will text him myself.” I have to roll my eyes at her initiative.

“How are you going to text him when you don’t have his number?”

I hear her open up my laptop, and I assume she’s locating my contacts folder. “Got it. Thanks, mom!” I’m not sure what she’s thanking _me_ for. I didn’t exactly do anything except forget to change the password to my computer.

“Hold up, just give me a minute to warn him that you’re texting him.” I walk down the hall to my bedroom to change into clothes that aren’t covered in orange juice. I take a moment to text Bellamy a heads-up that he’ll be receiving some texts from a precocious seven-year old.

**_Bell. Alex got hold of your number._ **

**_Expect a text any minute now._ **

I don’t get a reply, but I did my duty. I finish getting ready to go, making sure I have my badge when I hear my phone buzz.  

**_Ha. That’s who that is_ **

**_Why am I not surprised that she texts with perfect spelling and grammar?_ **

**_You shouldn’t be_ **

**_She’s ruthless with that shit. You’ve been warned._ **

**_You should probably reacquaint yourself with a grammar reference book or something._ **

I shout down the hallway to Alex, “You work fast.”

“You taught me well.”

I laugh out loud, “I taught you to work fast?”

“You taught me that if I want something, I can’t just sit and wait for it to come to me.”

I scoff, since that sounds like something I would say. “Fine. Be nice.”

Alex and I gather our bags and get in the car so I can drop her off at school on the way to work. As we are driving, I see her in the rearview mirror and I’m amused by her concentration. I have to wonder what the hell he is telling her that has her laughing so damn often. I make a mental note to go through the logs on the handy privacy-invading app I installed on her phone.

As I pull into the drop-off lane at her school, I give her a sloppy kiss on the cheek. “Hey, your phone-“

“I know. It’s already off and stowed in my backpack.”

“Good girl.” I get a shiver when I think about that phrase, _Good Girl._ I’m going to have to come up with a different phrase than “good girl,” because I instantly hear Bellamy’s sexy-as-fuck voice saying it in my head, and I can’t be getting all hot and bothered at the drop-off lane at my kid’s school.

“Love you mom.”

“Love you too. See you tonight.” She’s a latch-key kid. She gets a ride home from school with her BFF (her term, not mine). Now that I’m in my Fellowship, my hours have improved, somewhat. I have my on-call shifts scheduled for nights Alex is with Nate, and after day shifts I’m usually able to get home before dinner. Part of me hates that she’s so self-sufficient. I’m proud of her ability to take care of herself, but I wish that it wasn’t a skill she acquired by necessity.

After I pull into my parking space at the hospital, I check my phone and see a few texts from Bellamy.

**_She’s something else_ **

**_I miss the kid_ **

_**She misses you, too**_

**_I miss you_ **

**_I bet you do_ **

**_I miss you too_ **

**_Keep thinking about what I’m going to do to you_ **

**_next time I get you alone_ **

**_You sound kind of like a serial killer_ **

**_You’re right_ **

**_I often am_ **

**_But I’ll bite. What ARE you going to do?_ **

**_It’s a surprise._ **

**_I hate surprises_ **

**_I think you like them if I’m making you come_ **

**_True, that might make me more agreeable_ **

**_Since we’re on the subject of “Orgasms a la Bellamy”_ **

**_I like it_ **

**_Thought you might._ **

****_Quit getting distracted._ ** **

**_My apologies. Back to orgasms_ **

**_I want you to tie me up again_ **

**_You like that, huh?_ **

**_I do_ **

**_I can keep doing it_ **

**_No, I want you to do more_ **

**_More? How so?_ **

**_Be as descriptive as possible_ **

**_Are you gonna jerk off to this conversation later?_ **

**_Only if we make it worthwhile_ **

**_Challenge accepted_ **

**_I’ve never known you to back down from one_ **

**_I want to be tied up_ **

**_Like really tied up_ **

**_With those fancy knots_ **

**_I forget what it’s called_ **

**_  
_ **

**_Shibari_ **

**_Mmmmm… Yes... That._ **

**_Happy to oblige_ **

**_Tell me what kind of knots you want_ **

**_I don’t know all the names of all the knots_ **

**_That’s okay_ **

**_How about you describe them_ **

**_In detail_ **

**_I hear there are knots you can do_ **

**_That will tease my clit_ **

**_I’ll tie it so I can control the teasing_ **

**_YES... Do that._ **

**_Wouldn’t have it any other way_ **

**_Nor would I_ **

**_Tell me more_ **

**_I want you to tie my arms behind me_ **

**_With some sort of beautiful pattern_ **

**_That will leave imprints on my skin after the rope is off_ **

**_Fuck_ **

**_More_ **

**_While I’m tied up, I want you to teach me things_ **

**_Like what, princess?_ **

**_Teach me how to please you_ **

**_Jesus fucking Christ_ **

**_I still didn’t get to suck your cock_ **

**_I’m going to teach you_ **

**_Will you teach me with my arms tied up behind me?_ **

**_Do you know how fucking hot that is?_ **

**_I do now_ **

**_Do you like that I won’t be able to use my hands?_ **

**_I’ll have to do everything with my mouth_ **

**_Yes_ **

**_You will_ **

****_I’ve never sucked a cock with my arms bound_ ** **

**_I want to feel helpless_ **

**_At your mercy_ **

**_Holy fuck_ **

**_Keep going_ **

**_You’ll tell me exactly what to do_ **

**_And I will, of course, obey_ **

**_But if I don’t_ **

**_You’ll have to punish me, won’t you_ **

**_Disobedience has consequences_ **

**_Will you spank me?_ **

**_If the situation warrants a spanking, yes_ **

**_Will you use your hand?_ **

**_Or a flogger?_ **

**_Or a crop?_ **

**_I have all of those_ **

**_(Not a surprise)_ **

**_Will they leave marks?_ **

**_(btw I have a bone to pick with you)_ **

**_(not now. You can pick bones later)_ **

**_Keep telling me about spanking you_ **

**_I might try and cover myself_ **

**_So you may need to tie me up when you spank me_ **

**_I may_ **

**_Keep going_ **

**_Have you ever spanked someone OVER the knots?_ **

**_How do you mean?_ **

**_Like, so that there are welts left_ **

**_But only on the exposed areas_ **

**_So that later, after the imprints are gone_ **

**_You can still see the pattern_ **

**_Never tried it_ **

**_Like a sunburn_ **

**_I can picture it_ **

**_I’m not sure if I’m ready for that sort of thing_ **

**_But it’s just something I thought about_ **

**_Back to the punishments_ **

**_Do continue_ **

**_After I’ve taken my punishment_ **

**_And I’ve learned my lesson_ **

**_You’ll tell me I’m a good girl_ **

**_Fuck_ **

**_And you’ll tell me that good girls get rewarded_ **

**_Yes they do_ **

**_Fuck. Now I really want you to fuck me_ **

**_I want to fuck you, too_ **

**_I’m at work for the next 10 hours_ **

**_So every minute I’m not actually working_ **

**_I’m going to be picturing you_ **

**_Driving your massive cock into me_ **

****_While I beg for you to let me come_ ** **

**_I’ll drag it out_ **

**_Tease the fuck out of you_ **

**_When you finally give me permission_ **

**_It will be earth-shattering_ **

**_And I’ll bring you right over the edge with me_ **

**_You always do_ **

**_I love when you come inside of me_ **

**_But when I suck your cock,_ **

**_I want you to come on my lips_ **

**_Fuck_ **

**_And my chin_ **

**_And my neck_ **

**_And my tits_ **

**_Unless, of course you want me to swallow_ **

**_Fuck me_ **

**_I’m like a kid in a fucking toy store_ **

**_Do you want to cover me with your come?_ **

**_Absolutely_ **

**_Or do you want your come down my throat?_ **

**_Fuck_ **

**_I want that, too_ **

**_Well, maybe I’ll just have to do it more than once_ **

**_Seems like a reasonable solution_ **

**_That settles it._ **

****_**_I’ll have to suck your cock several times_ ** _ ** **

**_I like that plan_ **

**_I would hope so_ **

**_**Okay, hot part of conversation has to come to an end*_ **

**_I’ve got a patient who is pushing_ **

**_Baby’s gonna be here soon. Can’t be distracted._ **

**_As exciting as Alex’s arrival was_ **

**_I don’t think it should be a standard_ **

**_What are you doing tonight?_ **

**_You_ **

**_Come over for dinner_ **

**_Alex is here, and she’d love to see you._ **

**_And her bedroom is on the other side of the apartment_ **

**_I’ll bring dinner_ **

**_You don’t trust my cooking?_ **

**_Oh, you cook now?_ **

**_Yeah right_ **

**_Bring something meatless._ **

**_Alex is a vegetarian now._ **

**_Of course she is_ **

**_I just sent a contact card with my address_ **

**_Got it_ **

**_7pm_ **

****_**_**_I’ll be there_ ** _ ** _ ** **

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coming soon: Dinner and cute reunions


	12. i heard you miss me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A heartfelt reunion between two very special people.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! I'm so flattered by the feedback I've been getting! Thank you all so much :-) Keep them coming - every review is like a little packet of inspiration in my inbox. 
> 
> I was going to end this chapter with Clarke+Bellamy sexy time, but it just felt too weird to put it in the same chapter as Bellamy's emotional reunion with a 7-year old.

Bellamy POV:

I still can’t believe this past weekend _happened._ I want to say that I knew all along that Clarke and I would end up together, but I can’t take credit for something I honestly had given up on. For breakfast this morning, I’m finishing off the scones that Clarke and I had made over the weekend. Truthfully, I made them and Clarke helped. And by “helped,” I mean that she distracted the fuck out of me. The scones are a little bit crisp, since I couldn’t hear the oven timer go off over her screams. Clarke may be many things, but quiet during sex is not one of them. Eating our sex-interrupted scones is reminding me of this weekend, and that is really _not_ what I need to deal with before going into work…

My phone chimes. It’s a somewhat creepy text from an unknown number.

**_I heard you miss me_. **

**_Uh, who is this_ **

**_I think you forgot a question mark at the end of that._ **

**_okay, who is this???_ **

**_You only need one question mark._ **

**_And, you should capitalize the first word of a sentence._ **

**_Thanks grammar police_ **

**_Do you have something against punctuation?_ **

**_what the fuck_ **

**_Is that a question?_ **

**_Who the fuck is this?_ **

**_Look! You made a complete sentence. Good job._ **

**_And this is Alex Griffin-Findlay_ **

**_Alex!!!!_ **

**_You only need one exclamation point._ **

**_But, I like the sentiment._ **

**_You text really fast_ **

**_“Quickly” would be my word choice (over “fast”)._ **

**_So does it annoy you when people butcher the English language?_ **

**_Not really._ **

**_If I let that get to me, I would be annoyed all the time._ **

**_I’m just giving you pointers._ **

**_Your mom just texted me to let me know you have my number_ **

**_She’s a little behind_ **

**_I work quickly._ **

**_I’ll say_ **

**_Don’t tell her I said the F-word_ **

**_She’ll know eventually._ **

**_She put an app on my phone that logs my texts._ **

**_You’ll owe money to the swear jar._ **

**_You have a swear jar?_ **

**_Mom fills it up._ **

**_I believe that._ **

**_So do you miss me?_ **

**_More than you know, kiddo._ **

**_I miss you, too._ **

**_I can’t believe you are texting me_ **

**_You sound like a grown up_ **

**_I’ve heard that before._ **

**_But I’m 7._ **

**_Or 1 and 3/4_ **

**_You’re still doing that?_ **

**_Doing what?_ **

**_When I turned 4, you kept telling me I was 1._ **

**_Because I have a leap year birthday._ **

**_Haha, you used to get so mad about that_ **

**_I KNOW_ **

**_I’ll probably never stop_ **

**_I figured._ **

**_When did you get so smart?_ **

**_I’ve always been smart._ **

**_You have_ **

**_Mom says smart people are a dime a dozen._ **

**_She says she wants me to be a good person._ **

**_She does say that_ **

**_I have to go soon. We are almost at school._ **

**_I have to turn off my phone or the principal will take it again._ **

**_Its good hearing from you_ **

**_It’s good hearing from you, too._ **

**_And I assume you meant to type “it’s” instead of “its.”_ **

**_They mean two different things._ **

**_“It’s” is a contraction for “it is” or “it has.”_ **

**_“Its” is a possessive form of “it” (“The cat lost its fur.”)._ **

**_Poor cat_ **

**_Thanks for the grammar lesson kiddo_ **

**_Commas matter._ **

**_For example: “Let’s eat, kids” would be a horrible sentence without a comma._ **

**_Ha – yeah it would. Unless you think eating kids is cool._ **

**_That sentence is missing a comma, as well._ **

**_I have to go now._ **

**_I’m at school._ **

**_Be good. Don’t scare anyone._ **

**_Same to you._ **

 

Holy fucking shit. I just got my ass verbally handed to me, repeatedly, by a seven year old. I’m not surprised that Clarke Griffin’s daughter would be a perfectionist. I _am_ surprised that knows all that shit at age seven. I’m tempted to go back and pick apart her texts and find a mistake, but somehow, I don’t think that would get me too far with Alex. Not if she’s anything like Clarke, and I think she is.

Ten minutes later, I get a text from Clarke. At some point over the weekend, Clarke told me she’d send dirty texts. The girl fucking delivered. I can’t believe I have to go through the entire fucking work day plagued with images of Clarke tied up and blowing me. I say “plagued” because I will probably be in actual pain with a raging boner at some point. 

At 6:55 PM, I arrive at Clarke’s apartment building. She’s a doctor, so I thought it’d be some sort of ritzy building in the nice part of town. It’s not the worst area of the city, and the building isn’t terrifying or anything, I just guessed that it would be more “showy” or something. I buzz their apartment number. After not receiving an answer, I buzz again.

“Can I help you?” The voice coming over the intercom is very clearly a child’s, but it is straining to sound older than it is.

“Alex?”

“Who is this?”

“It’s Bellamy.”

I get 45 seconds of silence before the door clicks.  

I get to the apartment door and knock on it. No answer. I wonder if Clarke is paying me back for making her wait at my door last weekend. Then, through the door I hear something being drug across the floor, making me wince at the possible damage to the surface. Whatever it is, it bumps the door as well. Then, there’s the dragging sound again as it is being pulled away from the door.

When the door opens (I hear two deadbolts disengage, despite seeing four actual locks on the door), a miniature Clarke is standing there, staring at me quizzically.

“How did you know where I live?” She narrows her eyes slightly and cocks her head to the side.

I chuckle, “Your mom told me. She invited me for dinner.”

“She didn’t tell me about it. And she’s not home yet.” She’s still looking at me suspiciously, not completely satisfied with my answer.

I pull out my phone to show her the texts. “Here, look.”

She takes the phone out of my hands and inspects it. I’m praying she doesn’t scroll up too far, or Clarke will fucking kill me. She furrows her brows while tapping the screen a few times. She must sense my unease, since she pipes up, “Relax, I’m just making sure it’s actually her number on the other end.” She cracks a crooked grin, which turns into a stunning smile. She is a spitting image of Clarke.

I feel my face smiling back as I crouch down to be closer to her eye level, and before I realize what’s happening, Alex launches into me, wrapping her arms around my neck and squeezing surprisingly hard. It takes a second, but I reciprocate fully, wrapping my arms around her small body. Her grip does not weaken as she sinks her forehead into the crook of my shoulder and neck. I feel little tears fall onto my skin and I try to lean my head back so I can look at her face, but she just squeezes tighter, not letting me pull away. I stand up with her still in my arms, maintaining my grip on her with one hand and picking up the bag of take-out in the other.

“Is it alright if we go inside?”

She nods her little head wordlessly, but I hear a sniffle and my heart breaks. I walk through the door and close it behind us. As I start to lock it, she quickly says in a shaky voice, “Only lock the middle one and bottom one.”

“Okay, done. Why only those?”

“So that if someone tries to break in by reversing all of them, they’ll still be locking themselves out.” She states it like it’s obvious, her voice already returning to normal.

“Got it. But wouldn’t a lock-picker realize that the unlocked ones are already unlocked?”

“No, half of them have a reverse mechanism. Watch.” She pries herself out of my arms and goes back over to the door to demonstrate that two of them do, in fact, require one to rotate the knob the opposite direction to engage the lock.

“Wait, but there are only four locks outside, but five on the inside.”

“The top one can only be unlocked from the inside. And mom and I rotate which locks we use every week, so that they all have even wear and tear, because it would be pretty obvious if two of them were all shiny and new-looking.”

I take a step back and nod my head, “Impressive. Doesn’t that get confusing?”

She smirks and rolls her eyes in a very Clarke-like manner, “No.”

I laugh and shake my head, “Of course it doesn’t.”

She nods at the bag in my hand, “Is that dinner?”

“Yup. I picked it up down the street.”

“I hope you mean that you got it from a restaurant and not from someone _in_ the street.” She gives me a knowing look and lop-sided grin. This kid likes to mess with me, and I’m loving it.

“The vagrant promised he didn’t get any of his fleas into the tofu.”

She laughs loudly, then she excitedly says, “Tofu? I LOVE tofu!” She accents the second syllable of ‘tofu’ and the verbal flourish somehow makes a gross soybean paste sound elegant.

“No kid likes tofu. You’re weird.” I ruffle her hair and she ducks out of my hold to grab the takeout bag and starts walking to what I assume is the kitchen.

She calls over her shoulder, “Hello pot, I’m kettle.”

“You think you’re funny, huh?” I ask her as I follow her into the kitchen.

“Sure, tell yourself that I’m joking.” She smirks again as she puts the bag on the counter. She points at a cabinet and tells me to get down two plates while she grabs silverware out of a drawer.

We sit down at the table and dig in. She samples everything I brought before deciding on two of the entrees. “Thanks for bringing dinner. I guess mom told you I’m vegetarian?”

“She said that, yeah.”

“That was thoughtful. So thanks.”

“No problem, kid. Where _is_ your mom?”

She shrugs, “She had an emergency C-section, so she’ll be late.”

“Ah. She’s a hard worker.”

She looks thoughtfully at me, then nods, “Yeah.”

“Does it bum you out?”

She shrugs again, “Eh, it’s not as bad as it used to be. She is usually home early, but sometimes stuff happens. I used to get mad because I didn’t get to see her as much as other kids get to see their moms, but Dad says she’s saving babies.”

“Yeah, she is.”

“That’s important. I’m proud of my mom. And like I said, she’s usually home early. She hasn’t missed dinner in a while. And she has always made it to the big things. Like the play we put on this year. She was there. And my swim meets and soccer games.” She doesn’t have even a _hint_ of resentment in her voice. It was always Clarke’s fear that her child would hate her for having such a shitty work schedule. I’m glad to see that, at least at this point, that fear is unfounded.

Alex continued, “This is the last year of her fellowship. She is going to be part of a private practice starting this August, so by the time I start second grade, things will be a little better.”

“That’s something to look forward to.”

She smiles big and nods before taking another mouthful of food.

We keep talking through dinner. She tells me about her day at school and I learn that girl politics are really fucking complicated in first grade. It doesn’t seem like much time has passed, but at 8:15, she informs me that it’s her bedtime.

“If I don’t get to bed by 8:30, I will have a crappy morning.”

“Well I don’t want you to have a crappy morning.”

I gather up the dishes and take them into the kitchen. Alex comes into the kitchen behind me with our cups. She is quiet for a minute while I rinse the plates and put them in the dishwasher.

“Bellamy?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you read me a bedtime story?”

“Sure. Go get ready for bed and pick out a story. I’m going to put together a plate for your mom.”

She flashes a wide smile, “Okay, my room is down that hall, past the bathroom.” Then she skips away and I hear her singing.

After I’m done in the kitchen, I go to her room. The door is open, but I knock anyway.

“That took you long enough.” She grins at me. Her hands are working on taming her wild curls into a braid.

“Did you brush your teeth and all that?”

“Yup. See?” She opens her mouth and sticks her tongue out, as if that’s supposed to be evidence of tooth brushing. A simple ‘yes’ or ‘no’ would have sufficed, but her gestures crack me up.

“Alright. Did you pick out a story?”

“Yup,” she says as she crawls under the covers and scoots over, patting the spot next to her, imploring me to sit down.  

Alex produces a well-worn book, an anthology of stories, _Myths Every Child Should Know_. I remember the book. I gave it to her. I can’t help but smile when I see the worn pages, evidence of its frequent readings. I look on the inside cover and read the inscription.

_To Alex on her 4 th birthday._

_“Hope spiritualizes earth;_

_Hope makes it always new;_

_and, even in the earth’s best and brightest aspect,_

_Hope shows it to be only the shadow of an infinite bliss hereafter!”_

_No matter what troubles come into the world,_

_Always have hope, Alex_

_-Bellamy_

The quote is from “The Paradise of Children,” Hawthorne’s interpretation of Pandora opening her infamous box. It’s got a happy ending of sorts. While the box contained all sorts of “troubles” in the world, it also contained “Hope,” a gentle creature who would follow behind the troubles and soothe the stings caused by the troubles.  

My heart clenches a little when I run my fingers over the inscription, and I notice the child-sized fingerprints and smudges. I can picture Alex running her tiny fingers over the words. I used to do the same thing with the inscription on a book my mother gave to me. I would run my fingers over it, as if I could feel her presence through the handwriting. I wonder if Alex was thinking of me when she did it.

She peeks over at the book and sees me looking at the inscription. “Can you read that story?”

I hear my voice crack a little, “Yeah, that’s a good one.” Alex curls up into my side as I turn to the beginning page.

She falls asleep about ten pages in, but I keep reading for another couple of pages. I read the rest of the story to myself silently while Alex is fast asleep next to me. I close the book and look down at the little girl curled up next to me, a spitting image of Clarke. Gazing at Alex, I remember Clarke’s words from the other night, _‘I became a mother, and I’m so incredibly proud of that._ I get why. I mean, I could understand why any mom would feel that way, but Alex is an extraordinary child.

I catch movement in the corner of my eye. I see Clarke, leaning against the open door frame, arms wrapped around herself. She smiles at me and gives me a small wave while she straightens herself up and starts walking toward Alex’s bed. I feel myself smiling back at her, a thrill in my chest. When she reaches the bed, she leans down and plants a solid kiss on my lips. I bring my hand up to her cheek and hold her there, not deepening the kiss, just prolonging the moment. I break the kiss, leaning my head back to look at her and she has a sincere smile on her face.

“Hi.” Clarke whispers softly. I nod in reply as I brush my thumb across her cheekbone. I kiss her again, chastely, before dropping my hand from her cheek. She glances down at Alex and nods toward Alex’s pillow. I carefully extricate myself from Alex’s sleepy grip and Clarke seamlessly swoops down to guide her head down to the pillow as I climb out of the bed. Somehow we achieve this without waking the child. Clarke pulls the covers over Alex’s sleeping form and closes her eyes as she plants a kiss on her forehead. Alex sleepily mumbles, “G’night mommy.” Clarke replies against her skin, “Goodnight baby girl.”

Clarke and I walk into the hallway, closing the door behind us. She leads us toward the living room, but before we reach the end of the hallway, she stops and turns around to face me.

She puts a hand on my chest and looks me in the eye with a smile in her own. “Thank you. For that.”

I pull her close to me so I can give her a proper kiss. She wraps her arms around my waist, anchoring me to her. I bring my hands to cup her face. She sweeps her tongue across my lips and I open them to let her in. I break the kiss momentarily, “I’ve been wanting to do that all damn day.”

“That’s all you wanted to do?” She smirks at me teasingly.

“Don’t tease me, woman…” My hands make their way to her hips and grip them hard as I push her against the wall. I dip my head back down to kiss her again. Deepening the kiss, I press my thumbs to her chin, encouraging her jaw to open farther for me. She complies beautifully, and as I push my entire body harder against her we both groan loudly in unison. Realizing we are only a few feet away from a sleeping child’s door, we both freeze and look at each other, then at the door. After about thirty seconds of no sounds or movement coming from Alex’s room we both take a deep breath in relief. She catches my eyes and I can’t look away.

“There’s a plate for you in the fridge.” I nod my head toward the kitchen but can’t break my gaze from Clarke.

She smiles, “That was thoughtful of you.”

“I aim to please.”

“Yes. You certainly do.”

I give her hips a quick squeeze with my hands and pull away from her. I push her toward the kitchen and follow her in. She grabs her food out of the fridge and pops it in the microwave to heat it up. I step behind her and lean against the counter behind us. She pivots to her right and leans sideways into me with a sigh. I wrap my arms around her, rubbing circles into the skin above her elbow, placing a kiss on the top of her head.

“I get it,” I break the silence.

“You get what?” She’s looking up at me, confused.

“Why you left. Why you had to get away.”

She just nods, silently.

“I thought I understood it before, but seeing her tonight, I get why you would do anything for her.”

“I always will.” She gives me a sad smile.

“She’s proud of you, you know.”

Clarke’s eyes dart up to mine. “How do you know?”

“She told me.”

“She said that?”

I nodded. “She said lots of things. She’s proud that you save babies.”

Clarke quirks a smile. “I feel like I missed a lot. I hate that I missed dinner. I’ve missed so many dinners already.”

“She didn’t say anything about that. She told me about how you always make it to her games. She said you were in the audience of her first grade play. She doesn’t count your absences, Clarke.”

Clarke leans back against me. “I love her. More than anything.”

“She knows that. She loves you, too.”

We share a smile. The moment is interrupted by the microwave beeping.

She groans, “I’m starving.”

I look at her suggestively, “Eat up.  Dessert is waiting.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up next: Bellamy+Clarke smut. Just all smut. I'm halfway through the chapter now, and hope to get it posted this afternoon! 
> 
> As always, REVIEWS + KUDOS are much appreciated!


	13. tie me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You like it when I tell you what a good girl you are, don’t you?” He dips a hand into my panties but doesn’t move his fingers into my folds, which I’m sure is just the beginning of his merciless teasing.
> 
> I moan in response, and as if he knows my body better than I do (which is quite possible), he holds my hips still with his other hand before I can thrust forward to try and make his hands go where I want them. He sees the frustration on my face and smirks, shaking his head.
> 
> “Patience…” He whispers in my ear, causing goosebumps to erupt all over my body.
> 
> “Since you’ve been such a good girl, you get to taste my cock tonight.” He dips a finger between my folds as he talks, and strokes through them slowly.
> 
> I shiver, my heart races with excitement. Never in my life have I wanted to give a blow job until Bellamy. Maybe it’s the chance to control his pleasure for once, maybe it’s the challenge of making him feel as good as he makes me feel. Either way, I fucking crave it, and he knows it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Trigger warning: Bellamy gives Clarke her first taste of rope bondage (Well, kind of second taste, but that first night was just a handcuff knot). So if the idea of being tied up freaks you out, or you don't want to read about it, then this isn't the chapter for you.
> 
> This is kind of "wordy" at the beginning. Bellamy is teaching Clarke about the ropes, and she wouldn't be comfortable with it if she couldn't talk it to death... Bellamy likes to teach (and Clarke is really into Teacher-Bellamy).

Clarke POV:

While I’m eating, Bellamy goes down to his car to fetch “some things” for tonight. I finish about half my plate before my sense of hunger is surpassed by the anticipation of his plans for me. I have to clench my thighs together at the way his deep voice travels through me when he tells me to meet him in my bedroom when I’m done. After putting my dishes in the sink, I have to make a concerted effort not to sprint.

I walk in and he’s organizing skeins of ropes on the bed. My heart jumps a little bit, slightly intimidated but mostly intrigued. He hears me walk in but doesn’t turn around yet. I have to fight the shiver that runs through me when I see the muscles of his back ripple under his shirt as he casually sorts through the ropes.

“Have you been drinking enough water today?”

“Several bottles’ worth. And I just downed another glass before I walked in here. What is it with you and water?”

Bellamy takes a breath and turns around to face me fully. His tone is somber, “There was an incident where a bottom I was working with got dehydrated during a heavy scene, and as the ‘top, I should have taken better care of her. It was a long time ago, I was inexperienced. She’s fine, no permanent injury or anything, but it’s one of those things that won’t happen again on my watch.” 

I consider what he just said before nodding my head in understanding. “And remind me what a ‘top’ and ‘bottom’ are again?”

Bellamy takes on a “teacher” persona, and I have to actively remind myself not to get hot and bothered by it. “A ‘top’ is the person _performing_ the action during a scene. The ‘bottom’ is the person _receiving_ the action. In this case, _I_ am the top, and the _action_ is tying and binding _you_ , the bottom.”  

He returns his bag and pulls some things out, including bottles of Gatorade, water, and straws, as well as crackers and jelly beans. “Electrolytes and hydration are important. You’re new at this, so we won’t do any heavy scenes yet, probably won’t for a long time, but I always keep them around anyway. Crackers for carbs. As for the jelly beans, I used to play with a diabetic bottom, and she always made sure to have jelly beans as an emergency glucose source.”

I laugh, “Yeah, one of Alex’s classmates does the same thing. I thought it was cool, and jelly beans are lot more tolerable than glucose tablets.”

He’s back to straightening out the ropes.  He places several pairs of flat-edged medical scissors in different places throughout the room. I look at them questioningly. He answers my question before I can ask, “It’s a safety thing. In case we need to quickly release you. These scissors won’t impale you, but I’ve tested them all against the ropes, and they’ll cut right through to get you out.”

I nod, “Okay.”

He turns to face me fully, “This isn’t risk-free. I do everything I can to mitigate the risks. You’re a doctor, so you understand how this kind of activity has the potential to cause nerve damage?

“Yes, obviously. The ropes are putting constant pressure on the skin.”

“Another medical term that applies to rope bondage is _ischemia_.”

“Yeah, it’s what happens when the blood supply is cut off, disrupting cellular metabolism, which can lead to cell damage.”

He has another lop-sided smile on his face, appearing amused by my business-like tone. “Yeah, doc, _cellular metabolism_ … Most of us laypeople don’t have thorough understanding of the details, but I’ve educated myself in enough of it to try and lessen the hazards. There are certain ties and wrap techniques I use that are less harsh on the skin. I also make a very clear plan in my head of what I’m going to do so that I don’t put undue pressure on the wrong parts of the body. There are anatomical areas to avoid ropes and/or knots – like the brachial plexus.”

“Oh yeah, lots of nerves under the armpits.”

“Exactly.  And we want to avoid constricting the femoral arteries.”

“Makes sense. That would cut off blood flow all over the leg.”

“I need you to let me know if you feel numbness, tingling, pins-and-needles, or pain, _anywhere_. And you need to tell me the second you feel it. That’s important.”

“I will.”

“I’ll be checking things constantly, and I have ways to do so without breaking the mood. But still, sensation is subjective. I can’t tell if you’ve gone numb somewhere unless you tell me.”

I nod and give him an awkward thumbs-up. I shake out my hands, as if I can shed the awkwardness by doing so. He just smiles kindly.

“So you’ve been doing this for a while?”

He nods, “Bondage, specifically? Yes.”

“So I guess I should consider myself lucky that I’ve got an experienced top.”

He smirks, “You should.” His vocal tone has become suggestive as _fuck,_ and I’m trying to keep my head straight until he’s done telling me the important stuff.”

“I read that a person new to ropes will spend more time playing with the ropes, rather than playing with _me_ with the ropes. Like it’d all be practice.”

“I can assure you Princess, I’ll take care of you.” _Fuck, I’m going to lose it soon…_

“So, that time I slapped you, when you suggested I get tied up…” I trail off, trying to muster up confidence.

He looks down at me again with a raised eyebrow, “Go on, Clarke.”

“Did you ever think of me, specifically?” His eyes darken, and the look on his face sends a confidence-boosting thrill through me. “Did you fantasize about tying _me_?”

He nods, and my mouth goes dry.

“What ties did you visualize? What positions did you imagine me in?” I’m trying to sound seductive, but I’m pretty sure it just came out a whisper. Still, based on his reactions, the effect is comparable.

He leans into me, and whispers in my ear. “Every fucking one I knew.” My breath hitches and I feel my skin heat up.

“So, we’re going to do this? You’re going to tie me?” I try to maintain a look of nonchalance but I can tell he sees right through it, so I crack a nervous smile.

“We don’t have to-“

“No, I _want_ to.” I place my hand on his chest, reassuring him of my willingness.

“I just want to be clear. Clarke, I will _never_ , _ever_ do anything to you that you don’t want.” His hand cradles my cheek, and the look on his face is unbearably sincere. I lean into his hand, and I feel so safe and protected.

“I know, Bellamy. I trust you.”

He brushes my cheeks with the backs of his fingers, his eyes tearing through my soul. “I’m going to talk you through everything. We start low and slow.”

I nod, “Okay.”

The atmosphere shifts as he straightens his posture, his body an imposing presence in the room.

“Close your door. And lock it.”

I do as he says. The locking thing is important. I really don’t want Alex walking in on this.

“Now come here.”

I walk back to stand in front of him.

“I’m going to undress you.”

I nod again in consent.

He walks around me in a circle, and I can feel his stare roaming over me. I’m going crazy inside. I feel myself squirm under his gaze and when he finally comes up behind me, I sigh in relief. He rubs his hands up and down my arms, and it feels like a cleansing gesture for my mind. When he does it, I'm brought to the moment. Whatever I am distracted by, whatever might be plaguing me, disappears the moment I feel his palms smooth up and down the length of my arms.

“Nod your head when you’re ready to go on.”

I close my eyes as I take a deep breath, letting his air fill my lungs while his scent surrounds me. I nod my head as I exhale. He sweeps his fingertips up the length of my arms, over my shoulders and finally curls them around the nape of my neck. Goosebumps erupt over my entire body when he sweeps them up around the base of my skull, gathering my hair in his hands. He tugs, pulls my head to the side to expose the length of my neck. He rakes his lips along the bared flesh and drags them back up to the shell of my ear, nipping lightly at it between his teeth. He then twists my hair until it wraps itself into a bun, which he secures with a hair elastic he must have procured from my dresser.

“Can’t have your hair getting caught up in anything.”

I nod my head in agreement. He walks back around to my front and drops to his knees. My breath hitches as I take in the sight of this dominating man on his knees.  It's a traditionally submissive posture, but he is as commanding as ever. He hooks his fingers and unfastens the button from my pants, then unzips them tortuously slowly. He pulls them to the floor and I step out of them before he sets them to the side.

He leans his forehead against my abdomen, and inhales loudly through his nose. I feel self-conscious knowing he’s inhaling my scent. “God, Clarke, you're intoxicating.” Bellamy’s voice is graveled and makes my head spin.

He wraps his hands behind my knees, then applies firm pressure as his hands travel slowly but steadily up my thighs, then kneads the flesh of my ass while he pulls my body against his forehead. He uses his nose to push the hem of my shirt up while his hands continue their path upwards under my shirt, fingers and palms pressing firmly against the skin of my back. My stomach jumps when he leans his forehead against my pubic bone, I shiver as his palms travel around my rib cage and he wraps his hands around my sides. His hands on me make me feel protected.

He lifts his forehead then moves his lips to the skin underneath my shirt. He runs his teeth along the skin of my stomach and jerk away from him.

“Ticklish, Princess?”

I shake my head, “No. It’s just… leave my stretch marks alone. I don’t want to be reminded that they’re there. I hate them.”

He frowns and shakes his head. “I don’t. They’re like battle scars. You got them doing something amazing.”

“I haven’t thought of them that way.”

He nips at them again, “Well, that’s how I see them. They’re part of you. If it makes you feel any better, you can barely see them. I didn’t really notice them before you said something.”

I tangle my fingers in his dark hair so I can see his eyes. I nod my head, “Okay.”

He kisses my stomach, then looks up at me again, “You’re beautiful, Clarke.”

I smile down at him and lean my head to the side, “You make me feel that way.”

He nods, “Good.”

Bellamy returns to his task. His thumbs graze across my nipples over the fabric of my bra. Although the material is thick, I can see my erect nipples through both my bra and the shirt covering it. He smirks at the surprised look on my face when I let out a sudden moan. I don’t even realize he unhooked my bra until I feel my breasts spring free.

He rises to his feet effortlessly, pulling up my shirt and bra to expose my breasts. By instinct, I immediately cover them up, but he gently pulls my arms apart and up so that he can pull my shirt the rest of the way off. 

Bellamy gives me the “look” that tells me that my body is his to use right now. Intellectually, the idea of being _used_ seems completely against my feminist ideals. But in practice, I find relief in giving him this control.  My pleasure is solely his jurisdiction, and he does a fucking amazing job of making sure the experience is mind-blowing. I trust him not to violate me, not to do anything that will genuinely harm me. I trust him to respect my safe word, slow down when I ask him to. I trust him not to judge me for things I want, to help me explore new ideas, and expose me to them safely. Submission gives me freedom to just _feel,_ to let go of my inhibitions and truly experience levels of pleasure I didn't know were possible.

Submitting to Bellamy, relinquishing control to him, means that he commands all of my body movements and positioning. He gives me the “look” to signal that we are in “scene.” He narrows his darkened eyes, tightens his facial features, straightens his spine. His body language translates to _control_ and he radiates authority. We enter his domain.  I’m just along for the ride, and I absolutely love it. In the future, he will guide me in finding gratification in other sensations, but he was clear that we won’t take it to the next level until I’m ready. Tonight, he’s going to tie me for the first time. I should probably feel nervous about it, but I’m excited. I want to get to it already, but I know better than to interrupt his plans. He knows what he’s doing, he knows what I need, and I have to trust him to give it to me.

Once I see “the look,” I let him do it all. My hands are up in the air after he peeled my shirt and bra off, and that’s where they’ll stay until he says (or moves me) otherwise. He steps back and looks me over approvingly.

“You can lower your arms.” I do so quickly, making my breasts bounce on impact. It’s my turn to smirk when he locks his gaze on them and groans.  

I tease, “Need a moment?” He gives me a glare, but there’s no hiding the raw desire in his eyes. I see his erection through his jeans and decide to count it as a win.

He steps back into me and fondles my breasts, raking his fingernails along the curves, cupping them in his hands and squeezing them. He groans again, but before I can make another snarky comment about it he gives me a level look and justifies himself, “They’re fucking magnificent. I’ll worship them if I want to.” That shuts me right up and I can’t hide the flattered smile that spreads over my face. He kisses my nose and catches my eyes, “ _You’re_ fucking magnificent.”

“Thank you,” I whisper.  If I try to actually speak at this point, it will probably just come out as an embarrassing moan.

“Thank you _what_?” He asks in a warning voice.

“Thank you, Sir,” I clear my throat and I quickly correct myself.

He wraps an arm around my lower back and pulls me into him. His erection is hard against my abdomen, and I feel a rush of wetness in my throbbing heat. With his hand cupping my head, he pulls me into a searing kiss. Although my arms remain obediently limp by my side, I reciprocate eagerly with the rest of my body, relaxing into his pull, opening my mouth obediently when his tongue demands entrance.

“You're a good girl,” he says when he finally pulls back.

I close my eyes and the gratification in my soul radiates to my face.

“You like it when I tell you what a good girl you are, don’t you?” He dips a hand into my panties but doesn’t move his fingers into my folds, which I’m sure is just the beginning of his merciless teasing.

I moan in response, and as if he knows my body better than I do (which is quite possible), he holds my hips still with his other hand before I can thrust forward to try and _make_ his hands go where I want them. He sees the frustration on my face and smirks, shaking his head.

“Patience…” He whispers in my ear, causing goosebumps to erupt all over my body.

“Since you’ve been such a good girl, you get to taste my cock tonight.” He dips a finger between my folds as he talks, and strokes through them slowly.

I shiver, my heart races with excitement. Never in my life have I _wanted_ to give a blow job until Bellamy. Maybe it’s the chance to control his pleasure for once, maybe it’s the challenge of making him feel as good as he makes me feel. Either way, I fucking _crave_ it, and he knows it.

“Have you ever given head?” His strokes get just a _little_ closer to my clit,

I roll my eyes, “A few times.” I’m finding it difficult to concentrate with his fingers teasing me. He isn’t touching my clit. He’s caressing everything _but_ , and it’s maddening. He knows this, of course. It’s part of his plan.

“If I recall, you weren’t a fan of giving head,” he leans close to me and asks in a low voice, “So why do you want it so bad _now?”_ He already knows the answer, but I’m happy to stroke his ego right now, despite the fact that he’s teasing me like a fucker with his own strokes between his legs.

“You know why..."  I shrug, "Everything is different with you. I just _want_ to.”

He has a satisfied smile when he nods his head. “Do you have experience with an _uncircumcised_ man?”

I shake my head slowly, unsure if this is a fault.

“Good. I can teach you exactly how I like it. It’s more sensitive uncut, so keep that in mind.”

I smile and straighten up my spine, as if to show that I’m an eager pupil.

He has a devious smile on his face, “When you texted me, how did you know that having your hands behind your back is such a turn-on for me?”

“I didn’t. It just feels like how I want to do it.” I feel my heart beat faster when his gaze is transfixed on me.

“You also mentioned being tied for it. Is that something you still want to try? Or do you want to hold your arms on your own?”

“Tie me,” I answer, probably too quickly.

Bellamy’s smile is pleased. He removes his hand from my cunt, and I let out a protesting moan. He steps away from me and a chill shoots through me at the absence of his body heat. “Shake your arms out a little bit, and stretch some if you need to. You want to be relaxed.”

I follow his suggestion, making sure to stretch my shoulders.

“This is all _new_ rope, so there isn’t anyone else’s body fluids on it.”

iI huff, “That sounds sexy, ‘body fluids.’”

He chuckles, “Hush, it’s a hygiene thing.”

“Thank you, then.”

“ _Anyway_ … You’ve already had a simple knot when I tied your wrists together our first night together. Do you want something simple again, this time behind your back? Or would you like to try something different?”

I think about it for a moment, “Could you do one that’s more elaborate? Like, I’ve seen one that goes down from the shoulders to the wrists. Every time I see it, it’s like “sploosh,” you know?”

He chuckles, “If you’re gonna give me shit for ‘body fluids,’ I’m gonna give you shit for ‘sploosh.’”

I laugh with him. “How about we say neither one of those again. At least not in here."  I smile, "But back to my question, do you know which one I’m talking about? Like, it’s symmetrical and has a bunch of horizontal lines created from the loops that go around the arms, and those loops meet in the middle. Oh, and there are elaborate knots between all of the loops? It makes for gorgeous pictures.”

“Dragonfly sleeves. And it’s incredibly fucking hot.” My breath hitches at the low timbre of his voice.

“After the arms are bound, the rope continues between the legs and meets back in the front again. It can serve the purpose of teasing your clit. Or, we can just end it once the wrists are bound. Which would you prefer?”

“I don’t know for sure what I want. I'm turned on by the idea of the ropes teasing me, but I don’t want to do too much too fast."  After a moment, "Can I decide when we get to that point?”

“Of course.” He nods and gives me a reassuring look. “Wait, you said pictures. Do you want pictures?”

“I think so. I don’t want anyone to see them, but I want to see what this looks like, if that’s okay.”

“If you want pictures, they will absolutely stay private.”

“Okay, then I want pictures.”

“Happy to oblige, Princess.”  He smirks as he walks back to the bed to get a lengthy skein of ivory-colored rope. It looks soft.  He touches the rope to my arm, and lets it drag along my skin, drawing a shiver in its wake. “I picked this color because it will look beautiful on your skin.”

Bellamy takes the rope and finds the center. He starts with a “handcuff knot,” as he calls it, and he widens the loops. He walks around behind me and gives me instruction. He knows how wet I get when he goes into teacher mode...  

“As I go, tell me if you feel _any_ numbness, tingling, or pain. Okay?” I nod my head to indicate my understanding. Again, if I speak, it will sound more like a moan than anything…

“Your arms go through these loops,” he gestures for me to slip my hands through, like I’m slipping my arms into an invisible jacket. He drags it slowly up to my shoulders while my arms hang lip against my side. I gasp as I feel his fingers brush my skin when he tightens it over my shoulders. He kisses my back just above the intersection of the loops. I sigh at his open mouthed kisses up my neck while his fingers work the rope into more knots. I can feel how quickly he is able to manipulate the strands, and each time he brushes my skin, I have to fight the shivers that shoot down my spine.

“Okay, Princess, next loop, arms through here.” He holds the loops open for me. He slides them up my arm, this time ending midway between my elbow and shoulder. He places his hands on the sides of my upper arms and presses lightly, prompting me to draw my elbows toward each other behind my back. He tightens the next loop to keep my arms in place there. I feel him quickly make along my spine. He makes another set of loops and slides them up my arm, ending a little below the ropes already there. He repeats this process several times, until he reaches my wrists. Between each loop, he puts his fingers in my palms and has me squeeze, then he has me stretch my fingers out to show I can still move them.

He nips my shoulder, then kisses my neck before whispering into my ear, “Now it’s up to you, do you want the ropes to tease you while you’re sucking my cock?”

“ _God, yes,”_ His breath is hot against my skin when he softly laughs at my eagerness. He hooks his fingers into my panties and drags them down my hips and thighs, letting them drop the rest of the way. I can feel how wet they are as the fabric slides along the insides of my legs.

“Jesus, Clarke, you’re so fucking wet. You enjoying this, so far?”

I nod my head, gasping when he snakes his hand around my front and teases my clit again. He feeds the rope strands between my legs with one hand while his other hand abandons my clit to take hold of the rope. He walks around to my front and kneels down. He pulls forward on the rope, and it slides along my folds. My answering moan is almost embarrassing. He measures something, then ties quick knots in the strands, and when he finally rests them against me I feel the delicious intended effect. The knots were perfectly placed to stimulate my clit. I moan _again_ when I feel him tug the strands as he brings them up my torso, connecting them with the original loops, landing under my armpits. The loops are loose so that there aren’t any knots that would cut off circulation or cause nerve damage. He asks me again if there is any numbness, tingling, or pain, to which I reply with a shaky breath, “no, only good stuff.” He tugs again at the front strands, and my hips thrust forward of their own volition.

He stands in front of me and inspects his work, then drags his fingers along my skin and ropes.  “The tying is finished. You doing alright?”  

I nod my head, “I have a camera charging by my dresser. Don’t use phones. I don’t want Alex accidentally coming across it.”

He quickly grabs the camera and quickly snaps several photos. “You can see them later. I don’t want to leave your arms tied too long like this.”

“Okay.”

“Is everything good?

I nod my head with a needy sigh, “Very good.”

“Very good _what_?”

“Very good, _Sir._ ” Back to Dom mode.

Bellamy grabs at his shirt behind his collar, taking his shirt off that way guys do. I lose my train of thought as he flexes his muscles with the action. He unbuckles his belt, then slowly unbuttons his jeans and unzips them. He smiles when I lick my lips in anticipation. He kicks his jeans off, then his boxers, and his magnificent cock springs free. I'm unbelievably turned on by the sight of a naked Bellamy and I take a deep breath, trying to clear my head so I can do this right.

He slowly strokes his cock, and as his erection grows, the foreskin retracts on its own, making it look similar, but not quite the same as a circumcised one. It looks like _more_ , somehow, and _fuck_ it makes my mouth water...

He walks us over to the bed, where he sits on the edge. My bed isn’t as tall as his, so when he sits on the edge, it’s the perfect height to be able to suck his cock from a kneeling position. He reaches forward and takes a breast in each of his large hands.  He squeezes them firmly and smiles when he pushes them together. When he moves them around, it also moves the ropes between my legs, and I whimper with delight as the ropes rub my clit.

“You’ve got perfect tits. Fucking perfect. Have you ever let anyone tit-fuck you?”

“No Sir, I haven’t.” I can see his head fill with ideas already.

He growls, then takes a nipple in his mouth, earning a throaty moan from me. He tweaks my other nipple between his fingers. “I could spend all night with these babies.”

“Mmmm, but right now is about you, Sir. I want to put my mouth on you.”

He nods, “Very eager. I like it.”

“How are your arms?” He puts his hands on my hips and turns me around so he can take a look. He runs his hands down and caresses them gently.

“They’re fine, Sir. No numbness, no tinging, no pain.” He has me squeeze his fingers again. When he’s satisfied, he sits back up straight and turns me back around to face him.

His deep voice commands, “On your knees.” I quickly comply. As I kneel down, I moan shamelessly at the movement of the ropes against my throbbing clit. My center of balance is a little bit off, since I don’t have my arms to balance me, so he holds my shoulders to keep me steady. He moves a foot between my knees and tells me “spread,” so I widen the distance between them until he tells me it’s enough. Zings of pleasure shoot through my body when he tugs a little at the ropes to reward my quick obedience. He looks down at me and cups my cheek with his hand.  My heart skips a beat at the affection in his gaze. He pulls my hair out of its bun and it falls down around my face. My whole body shivers when it tickles my back and shoulders as it falls against my skin.

“Okay, Princess, like I said before, the tip is a lot more sensitive on an uncut cock, so remember, _gentle_.” I have a feeling he’s had some rough blow jobs in the past.

“Yes, Sir.”

 

* * *

 

BELLAMY POV:

I’m about to blow my load just looking at Clarke like this, arms bound behind her, gorgeous tits sticking out from her chest, aided by the positioning of her arms behind her. She’s gazing at my cock like it’s her last meal. She licks her lips again, which, _fuck,_ does not help my stamina. As much as I’d like to drag this out for myself, though, I can’t leave her tied up for long. I’m so rock hard, my dick is sticking straight up from my lap. I spread my legs apart to give her some space to get closer.

I place my hand behind her neck to move her head closer to my cock. “Lick the shaft, like you would a dripping popsicle.” She angles her head and drags her tongue on the underside, from the base to the tip. She does it a few more times, and drops of pre-cum weep from the tip. I touch it to her lips and she instinctively moves her head so that she can spread it over her lips.

“Good girl. Now close your mouth over the head.” When she does, she uses her tongue and strokes me softly with it. My body jolts with pleasure. “ _Fuck_ , that’s perfect. Just like that. Gentle.” She opens her mouth a little wider and takes more of me into her hot, wet mouth, her tongue fluttering around the tip when she draws her head back, which I’ve never felt a woman do so delicately. It’s almost teasing but so fulfilling in the way it almost vibrates. I slap a palm to the bed and I’m unable to suppress the groan that comes out of me when she combines that with suction.

Clarke takes a little more the next time she bobs her head down, and I feel the sensitive head of my cock touch the back of her throat. The quivering of her throat muscles as she gags around it is fucking heavenly. She looks up at me, eyes wide, and she’s so fucking hot like this. She pulls her mouth back, and the sight of her lips stretching around my cock as she withdraws reminds me of the way her inner lips stretch around my cock when I'm fucking her.

She pulls back a little too far and my cock falls out of her mouth, and I almost chuckle at her frustrated groan. “That's alright, baby, keep going. You’re doing fine.” She sticks her tongue out and draws me back into her mouth. This time she goes even deeper, and I nearly black out from the squeeze of her throat against on the head of my cock. She doesn’t even have all of me in her, but the soft warmth of her mouth around me is making it difficult to hold out.

She pulls out almost all the way, and swirls her tongue around my inner foreskin. The sensation is blissful and I fist my hand into the sheets below me, tugging so hard I’m worried I might rip them.

“Fuck, Princess, just like that.” With her lips still wrapped around the head, she does that thing again, where she flutters her tongue over the tip, only this time she’s more confident about it. While still being gentle enough not to hurt, she applies light suction, swirling her tongue over the tip again, then bobs her head down again. She gags again, a few times, and tears form in her eyes.

Concerned, I still her movements, “Hey, Princess, do you need a break?” Her facial expression becomes fierce as she hums a quick “mmm-mmm” and shakes her head slightly. I should know better than to ask, Clarke’s no quitter… She bobs her head again a few times, and it feels fucking fantastic, but I’m craving the shit she does with her tongue. I’m having trouble coming up with words at this point, so instead I pull her head up off my cock, just slightly, and manage to choke out, “tongue, do the tongue thing again.” I’m praying I don’t have to describe _which_ tongue thing, because my mind is almost blank with pleasure.

But she knows what I mean. _Fuck_ , she knows what I want. And she _keeps_ doing it, her tongue laving over the head, then circling around the sensitive ring of inner foreskin. I keep encouraging her, because fuck this is good.

“God... fuck… yes, that keep doing that. Goddammit, Princess, your tongue is fucking incredible.” Just when I thought it couldn’t get any more powerful, she hums. _Fucking hums_. And I feel the vibrations rock throughout my entire fucking body. While she hums around my cock, she blissfully closes her eyes, which is a whole other level of erotic. As she moves, the knots on the ropes over her clit are stimulating her, which was their purpose. I had planned to be teasing her as a reward, but I’ve been so blissed out, I completely neglected the task. Thank god she figured it out on her own. She opens her eyes wide and gazes into mine, her mouth wrapped around my cock, arms bound behind her, very obviously in a world of her own pleasure, I feel my balls tighten up and I’m about to blow my load. She can sense it, and to answer the question in her eyes, I choke out, “ON you, Princess, I want it on you, fuck, I want it all over you.”

She pulls her mouth off with a “pop” and leans her head back, baring the flesh of her neck. I didn’t even have to fucking tell her to do it, it’s as if she knew I wanted it on her neck. Don’t ask why, because I’m not sure, but it’s fucking perfect. I stand up and I finish myself off, ropes of my cum landing on her lips, her neck, and finally onto her glorious tits.

“Oh, _fuck_... Holy fuck.” She lifts her head up and her hair falls around her face. She drags her tongue over her lips, closing her eyes as she slowly licks my cum off of her swollen lips.   I stagger backwards and fall onto the bed because I can’t fucking handle the view of an arm-bound Clarke, tits thrust out in front of her, nipples hardened like tiny little pebbles, tasting my cum that she’s wearing. I fling myself back on the mattress and cover my eyes with my arm. _“Fuck, Princess, just… fuck.”_

“So that was good, then?” She asks. I would think she was being coy, but I look up at her face and she’s genuinely unsure of her skills.

“Yeah, Princess, it was fucking amazing.” She looks adorably proud of herself, and I can’t help but smile at her for it. I sit back up and raise my hand to cup her cheek. “You’re fucking incredible.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> REVIEWS give me fuel & KUDOS make me smile :-)


	14. make it hurt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Shhhhh… Or I’ll have to stop.” At that, I still my fingers inside of her, and she huffs in frustration.
> 
> “Okay… quiet… I can do that, Sir.” My cock twitches at the way she says 'Sir.' I can’t believe how quickly she’ll get me hard again. When she initially called me ‘Sir,’ I could still hear the resistance, and half the time it was nearly sarcastic. Now, she’s embraced it. Hearing the title on her lips gives me a surge of power. She’s further embracing her submission, and I want nothing more than to reward the fuck out of her for it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Trigger warning* This starts out sweet and smutty, but gets just a little rough toward the end (like, mildly rough - like hair pulling and biting)... Again, baby steps...

_“Yeah, Princess, it was fucking amazing.” She looks adorably proud of herself, and I can’t help but smile at her for it. I sit back up and bring my hand up to cup her cheek. “You’re fucking amazing.”_

* * *

 

She turns her head and kisses my palm. “I’m glad.” She shrugs her shoulders a bit, then moans at the sensation of the knots tugging between her legs again.

“Okay, we’ve gotta get your arms free.” I deftly untie, in reverse order of how they were tied. As I disengage the knots by her torso, I take a nipple into my mouth and suck, reveling in each mewl and whimper I draw from her. 

With both sides undone, the pressure against her clit is gone, and she moans in protest of the absence of contact. I help her stand up, and when she finds her feet, I keep her legs spread apart for a brief moment so I can dip my tongue into her folds and give her a rewarding (but still cruelly teasing) lick over her clit. She bucks her hips forward, but I shake my head, “Soon, Princess, soon. But I’ve gotta release your arms first.”

“Yes, Sir.” God, her compliance blows my fucking mind. I can feel myself hardening up already, despite the fact that Clarke effectively emptied me.

I walk around behind her and quickly undo the rest of the knots. She groans in relief, seemingly grateful for the return of freedom.

“Shit, were you hurting, Clarke?”

She shakes her head, “No, not at all. It’s more like, they're free to move again. It’s nice.” She brings her arms in front of her and inspects the marks left on her arms. She looks entranced. “It’s beautiful.” I’m surprised by her reaction, honestly. I mean, she said she wanted to see the indents, but I didn’t realize just how much she wanted them. I’ve had play partners who liked the pattern after removal, but none of them have looked so appreciatively at the indentations. I toss the rope to the side and step closer to her again. I take one of her arms in my hands and start leaving kisses along the rope lines. She lifts her other arm and tangles her hand in my hair. I walk us back over to the bed.

She still has smears of my come on her neck that I think she forgot about. “You’re still wearing me, Princess,” I whisper against her ear. She looks sheepish at first, but quickly sheds her timidity. She wipes at her neck with her finger, catching it with her finger, then looks me in the eye while she pops it in her mouth and moans in appreciation. I hear myself growl, unable to suppress the primitive side of me as I attack her neck. She shrieks, then pushes my face away, removing my mouth from her neck.

“Hey, hey, hey – Remember that bone I said I had to pick with you?”

I nod as she grabs a wet wipe from a drawer in her nightstand and brings it up to wipe at her neck, removing the makeup she had to use to cover up the numerous hickeys and bite marks on her neck. I’ll be honest, my dick twitches a bit at the sight of my marks all over her. There’s the animal in me, again.

She rolls her eyes. “Alex flipped out when she saw this, Bellamy!” She is trying to sound serious, but I can’t help but smirk at her exasperation.   She shoves half-heartedly at my shoulder, “Now she thinks that women in labor have a tendency to bite!”

“What? How the hell did she come to that conclusion?” I’m laughing at the absurdity of that statement.

“I may have told her that a patient bit me while she was in labor.”

I double over in laughter at this point, unable to contain myself. “You told her you got bit at work?!”

She rolls her eyes, “Well, I certainly didn’t tell her that I got it while having my brains fucked out!”

“Good point... But, I still like biting you there.” I lean over to suck at the mark.  And yeah, maybe I _am_ trying to make it a little darker…

She shivers, “Fuck... Yeah, I like it, too. Like, I _really_ like it. Sometimes I find myself just thinking about it for no reason. Or, I’ll be stroking it with my fingers without realizing it…” After a few moments of thought, she continues, “Okay, here's a compromise – you can still bite me there, but you have to buy me refills for the foundation for my airbrush.”

I can live with that. “Deal.”   I laugh again… “But really, I’m not sure that laboring women _don’t_ have a tendency to bite. I mean, it’s kind of an intense thing.”

“True. But I’ve never been bitten at work before. She was a little freaked.”

“Okay Princess, come back to me… _Come back to this.._.” I kiss the side of her neck, licking under her ear and sucking her earlobe into my mouth.

“Mmmm, god Bell, that feels good…" She suddenly straightens up again, "Oh, I want to see the pictures! Please?!” If I didn’t know any better, I would feel self-conscious by how distractible she is right now.

I grab the camera from the dresser. I push her onto the bed and she falls back. I can't fight the grin on my face when I see her tits bounce as her back hits the mattress. I gesture toward the head of the bed, and she scoots herself up until her head is at the pillows. I sit next to her on the mattress, facing the head of the bed, and trail my fingers up her inner thigh. Her legs fall open of their own volition and she groans loudly. “Shhhhhh, Princess, do you want to wake up the other occupant of this apartment?”

“Fuuuck, you’re right...”

“You’ve gotta be quiet, Princess. Think you can do that?”

She sighs frustedly and nods her head, “I can fucking try…”

I bring my hands to her folds and I sneak my fingers in between them, dipping two fingers inside of her. I hand her the camera and she flips it on. When she sees the first picture, her breath hitches and I feel her clench around my fingers. She moans, “ohhh, that’s gorgeous.” As she flips through them, she gets even wetter.  I can feel a new surge of juices as she looks at the photos of herself, bound and helpless.

“You weren’t kidding Princess, you’re fucking _dripping_ wet.” I twist my fingers inside of her and she groans again. “Shhhhhh, remember. _Quiet._ ”

“Fuck, Bell... I don’t know if I can.”

“Consider the fact that I’ll have to stop if we wake Alex up.”

“Okay, I’ll try _really hard_.”

“You’ll try really hard _what?”_

“I’ll try really hard, Sir.”

“Good girl.”

“Thank y-you, Sir.” She’s stuttering already, and I haven’t even really gotten started on her.

“So tell me Princess, what is in those pictures that turns you on so much? Because I can feel you getting more and more wet while you flip through those photos.” I really want to hear what she likes about them, though I will ask her again when I’m not fucking her with my hands. It’ll be interesting to see what kind of answers she comes up in different states of arousal.

“Oh, _god…_ it’s just fucking beautiful. The pattern is beautiful, so I feel beautif-f- _ful_ _!”_ I crook my fingers in a come-hither motion, knowing I’m grazing her g-spot. She cries out, not quite as loud as before, but still, we’ve gotta nip that in the bud…

“Shhhhh… Or I’ll have to stop.”   At that, I still my fingers inside of her, and she huffs in frustration.

“Okay… quiet… I can do that, Sir.” My cock twitches at the way she says 'Sir.' I can’t believe how quickly she’ll get me hard again.   When she initially called me ‘Sir,’ I could still hear the resistance, and half the time it was nearly sarcastic. Now, she’s embraced it. Hearing the title on her lips gives me a surge of power. She’s further embracing her submission, and I want nothing more than to reward the fuck out of her for it.

“So continue. Look at the pictures and tell me what you were feeling when I took them.”

“I felt helpless, but somehow empowered. That makes no fucking sense…”

“What else?”

“When I felt the knots over my clit, it was incredible. Like, I felt like I was being rewarded. So that made me feel happy.”

“Good, I’m glad. I want you to be happy.” I move my fingers a little inside of her, and she gives a soft but satisfied moan. “What else, Princess? Tell me what you meant by helpless.”

“I knew I was absolutely at your mercy, but I know you’re not merciless. You’re _fair_. Was that what the clit thing was for? If I pleasured you, you pleasured me, Sir?” (Another cock twitch)

“Yeah, Princess, that was the idea. But there was no ‘ _if_ ’ about it – I knew you’d deliver.”

“It was perfect, Sir.” There she goes with “Sir” again. I start moving my fingers in and out, in a slow sawing motion, making sure to give ample attention to her g-spot.   She starts to moan again, and it’s threatening to get loud. I grab a pillow and hand it to her.

“Princess, you’re going to have trouble when you come, so keep this handy and scream into it at that point.” I can’t help but feel ridiculously proud of the fact that she can’t control herself when I make her come; that every sound coming out of her is because of me, and _for_ me. “BUT, you still have to be quiet until then. That’s the new rule for tonight.”

She nods her head. “Yes, Sir.”

“And you know the other rule?”

She’s panting, “I can’t come until you let me, Sir.”

“Good girl.” She clenches her muscles around my fingers. “Hands above your head – hang onto the headboard for me. Keep them there.” She complies at once. I position myself like before – on my stomach between her legs, my face right in front of her cunt. I blow a soft puff of air on it, watching it pucker up. I look up at her face and she’s got her eyes closed, biting her lip in that sexy-as-fuck way that makes me groan (quietly, of course).

She interrupts, “Sir, what about the pillow?”

“You can move a hand to pick up the pillow when I give you permission to come. I’ll let you know.”

“Yes, Sir.” I grind my hips involuntarily into her bed at ‘Sir’ and I’m thankful that her bed linens aren’t scratchy. I remove my fingers, then I take my tongue and dip it into her cunt, reveling in the obscene amount of her juices. I slurp it up loudly and look up at her, just to see her reaction when she hears how wet she is. She hitches her breath and her mouth drops open.

“Is it turning you on, hearing me lapping you up?” She nods quickly. “When you hear how wet you are, does it make you wetter?” She pauses briefly, then nods again. “Use your words, Princess.”

“Y-yes, Sir,” she pants.

When she’s writhing in front of me, even though I’m not even physically touching her, I’m reminded of how wonderfully she responds to dirty talk. Maybe I should have been more verbal when she was sucking my cock, but I was way too far gone for that.

“Do you know how good you taste, Princess?”

She clears her throat, "You made me taste myself, Sir, remember?” I groan at the memory of her sucking her own juices off my fingers last weekend.

“ _Fuck_ , yeah, I remember, Princess. You taste like fucking paradise. You taste like you feel – like bliss.” I look down to see her cunt clenching again, trying to draw something, _anything,_ into it. I wrap my arms under her thighs then bring my forearms over her hips (for when I inevitably have to hold her still). I bring my hands over her pussy to continue my ministrations. I dip one finger on each hand to stretch her open again so I can lick her depths. She loved it every time I did it last weekend, so I think I’ll be doing that many times in the foreseeable future. She told me last weekend, _“Bell, you were blessed with a long, strong tongue. And I couldn’t be happier to benefit from it.”_ A surge of pride washes through me when she growls as I stroke her inner walls with my tongue, writhing it inside of her to match her writhing under my arms. I feel her walls lightly flutter around my tongue already, so I pinch both of her inner thighs in a warning that she’s not allowed to come yet.

She's done an admirable job trying to stay quiet. The tendons in her neck look like they’re going to pop from the strain. I give her some mercy, moving over to her thigh to suck on a mark that’s still there from this weekend. She sighs in relief. “You’re doing so good, Princess. _So good_.”

She breathlessly replies, “Thank you, Sir.” I’m completely hard already, and I want to fuck the hell out of her, so I’m going to be a gentleman and her come. I’m sure it has _nothing_ to do with the fact that I want to impale her cunt with my cock. (No, it has everything to do with that...)

I bring my mouth back to her cunt while I slip two fingers back in, vigorously pumping them in and out, stroking her g-spot mercilessly. I use the strong tip of my tongue to lick circles around her clit, but not touching it yet. Then I flick her engorged bundle of nerves lightly with my tongue and she attempts to surge her hips into my mouth. She’s got nothing on the strength of my arms, though, which frustrates her to no end…

Finally, _finally,_ I close my mouth over her throbbing clit and her entire body shakes in gratitude. Like an obedient girl, she’s not coming yet, but I can tell she’s painfully close.

“Oh fuck! _Please!"_  she sobs her pleas. I tug a little at her clit before I lift off, replacing my tongue with my thumb.

“Okay, Princess. You can grab the pillow now.” She does so, breathing fast and hard, but obediently holding off on her orgasm. I taste her again, quickly, then bring my head up to whisper against her, “You have my permission – come for me, Princess...”

Holding the pillow tightly against her face, she screams into it while her cunt spasms around my fingers. I don’t give her a moment to recover before I’m on top of her. She’s still in the midst of a powerful orgasm when I thrust my cock straight into her, sheathing myself completely. I hear her scream even louder into the pillow as she wraps her legs around me, somehow managing to graze one foot to my shoulder blade while the other one wraps around my ass, crushing me into her. I pause for a second because I will straight-up blow my load immediately if I don’t take a moment to compose myself. Said composure is not easily obtained, since her cunt is still spasming furiously around my cock.

I rip the pillow off of her face so I can swallow the moans I’m drawing out of her. I kiss her, deep and passionately, and she responds in kind. Never have I had a more perfect match in bed, and I thank whatever deity that brought her back to me.

“I’m gonna fuck you now…” I can hear the desperation in my own voice. “And, I- I won't be able to be gentle…”

“Oh god,  _please_... Fuck me... Fuck me HARD!” I would laugh at her whisper-shouts if I wasn’t so desperate to do exactly what she asks – I am _going_ to the fuck the hell out of her.

“I’m gonna fuck you _hard_ … Gonna fuck you _fast_ , and I’m gonna _Fuck. You._ _Deep_ , Princess.” I grind into her in rhythm with my words, punctuating them with agonizing pleasure for both of us, my pelvis pressing into her clit. “You've been a good girl, _such_ a good girl.  As a reward, you have my permission to come as soon as you want, as many times as you want.”

“Oh god... please, make it _ROUGH_. _”_ And I snap. _Rough_ is exactly the right word, but I didn’t want to scare her with it. But since she said it… I pull out, almost to the tip, then plunge back into her. Just as promised, hard and rough. I immediately pull back out, repeating the motion – pulling almost all the way out, snapping my hips back into her. I set a punishing rhythm and she meets me for every thrust. Neither of us will last long, but I have to hold out at until she falls apart at _least_ once.

And as if she’s reading my mind, I feel her walls fluttering _hard_ around me, and it feels like fucking heaven. “That’s right, that’s my good girl… Come on my cock… fuck, yes, your cunt is so good. Your cunt is fucking me like a slut...”

She growls,  _“_ Fuck, I’m YOURS, I’m YOUR slut!”

 _“_ That’s right, _mine..._ My _good_ little slut _...”_ I tug at her hair to expose her neck.  I catch sight of my bite mark, and I can’t resist the opportunity to deepen it. I sink my teeth into her, growling like the fucking animal she’s turned me into. I pull back, "What do you need? Tell me what you want."

“Oh, god... bite me... _please,_  mark me as yours!” She sobs. I pull her hair harder by instinct, but I abruptly release, concerned that I just hurt her. I didn’t warn her that I was going to do it. “No, pull again... Pull my hair... Make it HURT!” I’m completely floored by her request, but more than happy to oblige.

I growl in response before fisting my hands through her hair and jerking her neck back. Tears come to her eyes, and again I’m alarmed that I’ve crossed a line until her next vocalizations – _“_ God, _yes_ , like that... _Fuck_ , Do it again... Give me more...” I indulge her, and the sight of Clarke below me, in tears and embracing the pain I’m giving her, is about to be my undoing.

“Goddammit, Princess, you’re so fucking incredible.” I fist my hand even tighter into her hair, pulling back again so I can bite _hard_ into her neck, while my other hand pinches a nipple and twists _hard_. Her arms have left the headboard, but I couldn’t be more pleased when she brings them down to inflict her own pain on me. With one hand, she tangles her fingers in my hair and pulls my head back so she can bring my lips down on hers. She takes my lower lip between her teeth and bites hard, pulling it away from my face. I’m too blissed out to know whether or not she drew blood, because I feel the fingernails dig hard into the skin on my back and dragging across. She _definitely_ broke skin there. She releases my lip as she throws her head back. The pain she inflicts on me is fucking delicious.

I’m doing my best not to shout out, but I’m unsure if I was able to suppress the volume, “Fuck, FUCK, Clarke, come for me, baby. Open your eyes and come for me... I _need_ to see you come like this. I need YOU, Clarke." I need to know this is okay. I need to know I didn’t go too far. I need to know this is bringing her as much pleasure as it’s bringing me.

And at my command, her entire body tenses underneath and around me, a silent scream dying on her lips while her eyes slam shut. Tears flood her eyes while her cunt spasms powerfully around me, bringing me right over the edge with her. Her nails still draw blood on my back and she’s still coming as I empty myself completely, as deep into her as her body will take me.

I collapse on top of her, unable to move. Her chest heaves underneath me while her hands begin to relax against my back and scalp. The spasms in her cunt have slowed, and now I can feel her walls contracting sporadically with the aftershocks of her orgasm.

“Bell, I can’t breathe.” She pushes her hands against me, and I manage to roll myself off of her to her side. My head is resting on my bicep, which I curl so I can soothe her scalp with my fingers. My other arm is slung limp over her waist, my fingers caressing her side gently. She throws one arm over her eyes and the other is resting over my arm over her waist.

The heaving in her chest takes on a different rhythm, and she breaks into a sob. If I wasn’t aware of the fact that she’s going through a highly emotional sexual awakening, I would develop a complex with how much she cries after sex. Instead, I feel privileged to be the one she chose to guide her through it.

Through her submission to me, Clarke has secured a power over me that I didn’t know was possible. I never saw it coming. This is the exact moment I comprehend exactly what she means to me. I know she’s it for me, and there will never be another. No one will ever have me like she does.  That's sappy as fuck, but it's true. It’s overwhelming to _know_ this after three days, but at the same time, I’ve known Clarke for nearly 15 years. I know who she is. I’ve loved her as long as I’ve known her in one context or another.

 _This here_ – what we had tonight, the depth of the connection between us – it was the final missing piece of our puzzle. There’s no way in hell I can tell her all this now. The last thing I need to do is scare her away. For fuck’s sake, _I’m_ scared. I still need to process it, but there’s a peace in knowing.

Back to Clarke – she’s crying, which snaps me right out of my haze. I gently pull her arm away from her eyes. “Talk to me, Clarke. What’s going on?” She blinks rapidly, trying to clear the tears from her eyes while I brush her tears away with my thumb.

“What the fuck is _wrong_ with me, Bellamy?”

“Nothing. Absolutely _nothing_ is wrong with you.”

“No, I’m fucked up. I just had the most intense, mind-blowing orgasm of my entire life, and it was because you _hurt_ me.”

I swallow the knot in my throat. “Clarke, I’m so sorry.”

“NO, Bell, it’s not like that. You hurt me, but you didn’t _harm_ me. Okay? It was good. It was perfect.” More tears are forming as she cries again.  “If I’m not fucked up, I don’t know what this is. Why do I want you to control me in here? Why do I want you to give me pain? Why do I want to be hurt? Why do I get a thrill in my chest when you call me a _slut_?”

I kiss her temple. “Clarke, it’s not fucked up. It’s a sexual preference. I can’t definitively tell you what you are feeling. It’s subjective. I _think_ you fear weakness, and for a long time, it’s been drilled into your head that wanting those things – to submit, to take pain, to be called a ‘slut’ – is something weak people want. But I can tell you that it has nothing to do with being weak”

She furrows her brows. “Explain what you mean by that.”

“Okay, this is from my point of view. When you submit to me, I believe you are doing it from a place of _strength_ , Clarke. You wouldn’t choose just anyone to take control. You would be discriminating in a partner. You chose me, you gave me a gift. You have the power to decide if I’m worthy of it. I cherish that, as sappy as that sounds. I think you chose me because you know I respect the hell out of you. Because, Clarke, there is no one on this planet I respect more than you. You know that, right?”

She nods slowly, “I mean, I’ve always known you respect me. It’s a little surprising to hear that I’m the person you respect _most._ That’s big.”

“It is. But back to my point, you would never choose someone to dominate you in the bedroom who didn’t respect you outside of it. You are strong, intelligent, and a formidable opponent in a game of wits.” She smiles at that. “I love that about you. You don’t take my shit, you call me out when I’m being a dick.” She huffs out a laugh, which is a step in a good direction. “You’re able to let that go when we’re in _here,_ and I think that’s because you trust that beneath it all, I my respect for you, my trust in you, remains unshaken.”

“I think you’re right. I understood wanting to give up control – It’s a chance to not shoulder responsibility that threatens to crush me on a daily basis. I get that. It has just been hard to grasp why I want it so _badly.._. And then it scares me that I know that I will never want anyone else to do what I let you do.”

My breath hitches a bit when she says that. At least I know we’re on the same page with this, but I don’t think either of us is ready to go all-in with admissions yet. “It scares me, too. I don’t want anyone else to take my place with you… And I don’t want anyone to try to take your place with me.”

She nods, but doesn’t say anything further. Our words weren’t exactly “I will love you forever and ever” or sappy shit like that, but it’s an honest admission of what’s going on. I’m not ready to say it, even if I know it’s true. I’m not ready to hear it, either.

“Okay, what about the slut thing? That’s such a degrading term, and offensive. But for some reason, it turns me on like crazy.” I smirk at that, because I love calling her a slut in the bedroom.

“Alright, so before all this, a ‘slut’ was what? A pejorative term, right? There are a lot of different reasons that someone likes to be called a slut in our context. Some people are “owning” the term, like making it a positive. Like when you would take pride when someone called you a bitch?” She laughs at that memory.

I smirk at what I’m going to say next, but still feel oddly worried it might get me in trouble. “I _like_ calling you a slut in bed. Well, I like calling you _my_ slut. I have my own reasons.” She looks at me, eyebrows raised, waiting for me to elaborate. “It’s because it’s something that’s just _ours_. I didn’t call other partners a slut, it never occurred to me to be so possessive. Like, they would call themselves ‘slut’ but I didn’t reciprocate. And it’s not because I thought it would be disrespectful to affirm it, it was more like I just didn’t _care_. It wasn’t until I heard you that morning, resisting it, that I found myself _craving_ to hear it from your lips. It felt like you were embracing something within yourself, something I unleashed, and it was _mine_.” I run my hand through my hair, probably making it more wild than it already is.

“That kind of hits the nail on the head for me. Like, I was embracing the fact that, for some reason, I want to be _allowed_ to want dirty things, like a slut would. And it’s you who makes me feel safe enough to admit it, safe enough to want them.”

I kiss the side of her head again, whispering against her skin, “You will _always_ be safe with me.” She turns her head to face me.

“I know, Bellamy. Thank you for that.” She puts her hand on my cheek and gently pulls me forward to press her lips to mine. It’s a slow, but passionate and extremely powerful kiss, especially after what we’ve just discussed. Like we’re sealing an understanding.

She’s nodding off to sleep now, caged protectively in my arms. She says sleepily, “I still want to talk about pain, but I’m getting tired.”

I huff a laugh and nod, “yeah, I’m fucking spent…” I feel a thrill when she smirks with a look of well-deserved pride. As I feel her breathing even out, a sense of peace overwhelms me.

Yeah, she’s it for me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that happened... It's not intensely rough sex, but baby steps and all that. For those of you wanting ROUGH rough, that's something Bellamy would have to gradually expose her to. We may get there, if it feels right. 
> 
> Keep the reviews coming, everyone! When I finish off a chapter, I'm like, "ugh, I need a break..." Then a review pops up in my inbox, and I'm like "YES, I should definitely start the next chapter!"


	15. we've got 30 minutes to shower

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another "morning after" with Clarke & Bellamy 
> 
> Wakeup sex + shower sex

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone requested shower sex - you're welcome ;-)
> 
> **Trigger warning: they get kind of rough again in this chapter. Again, not ROUGH rough, but not quite vanilla.

 

I wake up, it’s still dark, so I check the clock, and it’s only 5AM. I’m sprawled across Bellamy’s chest, and the skin-to-skin contact is making my cheek sweat where it lays on his chest. That’s something they don’t show in the movies – feeling all sticky and sweaty during post-coital cuddling…  I don’t recall this being a problem when we fell asleep spooning.

I sit up, and the rustling of the sheets must have woken him up. He strokes his fingers up and down my back and I turn my head around to look at him over my shoulder before I stretch my arms and shoulders above me. I roll my eyes at the smug grin on his face but return it with one of my own.  

I lay back down, this time facing away from him. He gives a huff, and I can sense his anxiety when he thinks I’m trying to physically shut him out. To soothe his concern, I reach behind me and make a grabbing motion with my hand.

He chuckles, “What’s that you’re doing there?”

“Your hand… Give it to me.” He starts trying to extricate his and from between us. “No, your other hand.” He meets my fingers with his and I pull it over myself so that he can be the big spoon.

He laugh softly again, “You could have just told me you wanted to spoon, Clarke.”

I huff, “But ‘spooning’ sounds stupid.” He adjusts his position to one more comfortable for both of us, one of his legs between mine, his other arm no longer awkwardly stuck underneath him. I can feel his erection against my back, but he's making no moves to do anything about it. Regardless, I’m getting all wet anyway… He nuzzles my neck, in a totally lame and cliché way and it makes me laugh.

He scoffs, “What?”

“You…”

“Me?”

I roll my eyes, “Yeah, you. You’re kind of perfect and it makes me a little bit sick.”

He laughs and nuzzles me again. “You’re one to talk. You’re perfect.”

“See? Lame.”

I turn my head around and kiss him, thankful that our breath isn’t all morning-breath-ish. He’s got this ridiculous smile on his face that make it all the way to his eyes, and it’s fucking beautiful. I mean, yes, he’s aesthetically gorgeous – tan skin, chiseled jawline, hot-as-fuck adam’s apple, chiseled everything else… But it’s his soul… It shines through his eyes, and he’s breathtaking. He kisses me again, cupping my cheek his large hand, brushing his thumb along my skin.

When he breaks the kiss, I scrunch my nose, “Yeah, still lame…” I turn in his arms to face him. I shriek with laughter when he pulls me onto his chest and drags me up so my face is above his. I cradle his face with my hands and kiss him deeply. I can feel his erection grazing my entrance, and if I was to just sink down, he’d be in me easily. I glance at the alarm, which reads 5:15 AM. I whisper in his ear, “We have 45 minutes until Alex’s alarm goes off. Think you can fuck my brains out by then?”

He furrows his brows, “Was that a serious question?”

“Um, kind of. I mean, we don’t have to—“

He cuts me off by pulling my face down to his and capturing my mouth in an intense kiss. He sneaks a hand between us and parts my folds with his fingers. “Holy fuck, Clarke. It’s only five in the morning and you’re already _so fucking wet_.”

“Well, I’ve got you, getting me that way, by just _existing_.” I move into position to straddle him and he thrusts his hips up while I sink down on his cock with a groan.

“ _Fuck_ , Bell… You’re a lot to get used to first thing in the morning.” He has a smug look on his face, as he is fully aware of how well-endowed he is. He waits patiently while I adjust to him, using his thumb to play with my clit to distract me from the discomfort of being impaled by his sizable girth. I usually have a ton of foreplay to loosen me up before he’s actually fucking me. “Goddamnit, Bellamy you’re fucking _huge_.” While I’m wet as hell, I’m not exactly limber yet… I nod my head, then grind down on him, making him groan. Before long, the discomfort dissipates, overcome by the bliss of being stretched and filled in the most glorious way.

Suddenly, he sits straight up so that our chests are pressed together. He wraps one arm around my lower back while using his other arm for leverage, bracing it behind him as he begins thrusting up into me in a steady rhythm.   I throw one arm around his neck and use the other to explore his body. I don’t often have my hands free to roam around. I rotate my hips experimentally until I reach an angle that is driving both of us off the edge. “Oh god, Bellamy, _right there_ , oh fuck, _that’s it…_ ”

He responds in kind, _“_ Fuck, yeah Princess, _that’s it, come on.”_

I’m meeting him thrust for thrust _._ I moan, “More, tell me more… I love hearing your voice telling me all those dirty things…”

He growls against my neck, “Like how fucking tight your cunt is? It’s tight and warm, and fucking wet. My dick is in fucking paradise right now…”

I feel the pressure building up in my abdomen.

 _“_ Yeah, Princess? Did I tell you how fucking hot your tits are? I wanna see you play with your tits.” I oblige, licking my fingers and tweaking my nipples with my head thrown back. “Fuck, yes, like that… I’m gonna be picturing this all day today, getting your nipples all wet like that.” I bend my head down to blow on them and they harden up like little pebbles. “When I’m fucking you like this, your tits are extra bouncy. Use your hands and squeeze them, I want to pretend they’re my hands.” Again, I oblige, and the extra stimulation is about to send me over the edge. “Yeah, just like that. Fuck, that’s it, Princess. Play with your tits... just like that.”

“Like a slut?”

“Fuck, yes, like my little slut. Fuck you’re so hot like this.”

I go from gentle tweaking of my nipples to painful twisting, finding that the sensations travel straight to my clit in a most blissful way.

He sees me twisting my nipples and biting my lip harshly, “Are you making it hurt, baby?”

I nod frantically, “Yeah, and it hurts so good, Bell. So, so good.”

He groans and starts thrusting faster and harder, “Then make it feel good, baby, make it feel good.”

I feel the coiling in my abdomen “Oh god, I’m close, I’m so close!”

“Then come for me, baby… I wanna see you come while you’re playing with your tits.”

I feel my body release, my toes curl, my fingers are pinched around my nipples, pulling them hard while my orgasm crashes over me. I hear Bellamy groan as he swells inside me, then I feel his hot come surging into me, filling me up. I lean forward and drop my head on his shoulder while we still our bodies, chests still heaving and a sheen of sweat glistening over our bodies.

I lift my head off his shoulder and nip playfully at it. His hand is caressing my back, trailing up and down my spine. The alarm reads 5:30. “We’ve got 30 minutes to shower.” I’m still straddling him and he’s still inside me when he stands up and walks us to the bathroom.

“Let me down! I have to turn the water on!” He lets me slide down, but tickles my sides as I slip, and I turn the hot water on in the shower. Before I can turn around, he’s already behind me and pulls my back to his chest. He snakes his fingers around my front until he can thrust two fingers into my pussy. While we wait for the water to heat up, he’s finger-fucking me mercilessly. Just as I’m about to come, he stops so he can step into the shower with a wicked smirk. I let out a frustrated groan.

“Relax Princess, we don’t want to waste hot water. Now, get in here so I can tongue-fuck you.” I jump in without delay and he shoves me against the wall of the shower. He hands me a shampoo bottle, “Here – lather up your hair with shampoo. You can multitask, right?”

“I’m usually great at multitasking, but I don’t usually have your tongue fucking my pussy, so… _OH_!” He’s on his knees in an instant, throws one of my legs over his shoulders and spears me with his tongue. And holy _fuck_ he’s good at what he does. He does that thing where he gets his tongue all the way inside of me and my knees give out. He throws my other leg over his other shoulder so that I can lean limply against the tile wall while he keeps eating me out. I’ve got my fingers tangled up in my own hair, and apparently my attempts at lathering were surprisingly successful. I’m all blissed out, ready to come apart, when he starts fucking me with his fingers and sucks on my clit, and I’m over the edge. _“Yes, oh my god—OH fuck!”_ I feel my pussy spasm around his fingers, my clit throbbing.

Bellamy lets me down and spins me around so I’m facing the wall, and my body is buzzing with the anticipation of being taken from behind in the shower. I feel him standing behind me, still caressing my clit with one hand while he uses the shower head to rinse the shampoo out of my hair. The shampoo quickly rinses out and he grabs a bottle of conditioner, squirting some of it on his hand, then massaging it through the rest of my hair.

“Clarke, I’m gonna fuck you, now.”

“ _Please, yes_.” I spread my legs apart to give him easier access. As he presses close behind me, I continue, “…and Bell?”

He speaks into my ear in between love bites and licking under my earlobe. “Yeah, Princess?”

“ _Make it hurt_.”

He curses under his breath, “ _Fuck_.”

Then he slams me forward against the wall in front of me, not hard enough to actually do damage, but enough to surprise the hell out of me. I turn my face to the side so my cheek is pressed against the shower wall. The cold tile against my nipples is indescribably blissful. He presses against me with his entire body, almost (but not quite) suffocating me.

“Keep your palms and your face against the wall, you understand?”

“Yes, Sir.” My excitement is making me breathless. Although, that could also have something to do with being smothered into the shower wall.  

He uses a hand to lift one of my knees up, completely opening up my pussy. Bellamy grips onto my waist and pulls my hip slightly away from the wall. He lifts my hips up, positions himself, then abruptly pulls me down and impales me harshly onto his rock hard cock.

“Like that, Princess?”

“Oh _god_ , yes… Like that!”

He repeats the action a few times – lifting me up, then yanking me back down onto him.

As Bellamy thrusts harder and faster, he wraps my hair around his fist and pulls my head to the side. I can feel his eyes as they observe and admire the marks on my exposed neck.

I groan in frustration, “I need _more,”_

 _“_ Need more _what_? Baby, tell me,”

“I don’t know! Something!”

He wraps my hair even tighter around his fist as I dig my fingernails into my palms. “YES… that… please, more…”

“You like it rough, Princess?”

"Yes… fuck… oh, _GOD_ , yes!”

Bellamy growls as he thrusts up into me with incredible force while he pulls my hair, jerking my head to the side again. He bites down at the nape of my neck, earning a growl from me in return as I feel my entire body tense up. My orgasm _brutally_ rips through me, and I feel the world around me implode. I feel electricity charging through my body, bolts of pleasure striking from my core to my fingernails. I’m so far gone, I don’t even realize that Bellamy has stilled behind me until I can feel the warmth of his come inside of me, dripping out of me and down my thigh. I’m still leaning forward, my face pressed against the tile wall, chest heaving as I recover.

I open my eyes and see Bellamy’s hand and forearm on top of mine, pressed against the wall. I wiggle my other arm, the one I can’t see, and I can feel that it is in the same position – sandwiched between Bellamy’s arm and the wall. I am held captive between my protector’s arms. His forehead is leaning on my shoulder, his breaths are heavy and I can feel his entire body move behind me with each inhale and exhale. The water from the shower is pouring over his back and cascading gently over me.

As I regain my bearings, I clear my throat and pick my head up. “Oh my god… Just... _Oh my god_ …”

Bellamy huffs a dazed laugh and wraps an arm over my middle and pulls me back against him while he grabs the shower head with his other hand and proceeds to rinse the conditioner out of my hair. I lean back into his chest and turn my head up to nuzzle his adam’s apple. He meets my lips and kisses me deeply, breathtakingly.

I break the kiss, and can’t wipe the look of ecstasy that I’m certain is plastered across my face. “I’m not going to say I want that _all_ the time… but… holy _fuck_ that was fantastic.”

He leans back down to kiss me again. “You’re fucking incredible, Princess.”

“I was going to say the same thing about you…” Our moment is cut short by my phone alarm going off at 5:55. “Alex’s alarm goes off in 5 minutes.”

“Do you want me to duck out before Alex gets up?”

“No, you don’t need to do that. I don’t really know what her reaction will be when she sees you here. I’ve never had anyone stay overnight before.”

“Do you think she’ll know why I’m still here?”

“She’s not an idiot. Her father is engaged, and Jane lives with them. She knows that grownup sleepovers are, um, different.”

“It’s not exactly easy to lie to her.”

I huff a laugh, “She will connect the dots, probably as soon as she sees you.”

“Yeah, and if we try and lie, she’ll probably be insulted.”

“I agree. But just to put her in a good mood, having blueberry pancakes would be helpful.”

He laughs, “Soften the battlefield. Good plan.”

“Bellamy?”

“Alex likes to make unannounced visits to my bedroom – maybe find a place to put all of our, um, playthings?”

 

* * *

 

 

BELLAMY POV

“Noted.” I make sure to put the ropes out of sight before I go downstairs to the kitchen. It’s crazy that Clarke managed to get a two-level unit in an apartment building that is clearly composed of normal single-level units. It’s also the only unit I observed with multiple deadbolts. I file all that away in “random shit that doesn’t matter but piqued my curiosity…”

I go down to the kitchen and gather the necessary ingredients for the blueberry pancakes. I am honestly surprised all the ingredients are here, given Clarke’s aversion to cooking, or domesticity in general. Clarke is right - this is an effective way to put Alex in a good mood. She always loved breakfast for diner, and blueberry pancakes were my specialty (and a big hit with Alex).

I hear Alex’s door open down the hall, followed by tired shuffling of feet to the bathroom. I hear the shower turn on and I get back to mixing the batter and heating the griddle. By the time Alex emerges from the shower, I’ve got the griddle heated and the first batch of pancakes started.

“NO! Mom, you _promised_ you wouldn’t try and cook breakfast anymore!”

She comes running in the kitchen, towel on her head, with an exasperated look on her face. Then she sees me with the spatula and her face morphs into a relieved expression. “Oh, thank god. It’s just you. I was worried we would have to deal with smoke alarms. Not my favorite morning activity.”

“Really? Is she that bad?” I ask.

Alex gives me a level look.

“Yeah, okay, she’s that bad…” We share a laugh at her mother’s expense.

Alex darts behind me to start the coffee maker, then grabs syrup from the fridge and pops it in the microwave. She pulls out a bowl of cut-up fruits to place on the table. Then she points up at the cabinet and asks me to hand her three plates and cups while she gets the silverware. Within two minutes of this kid walking through the door, the table is elegantly set for a breakfast of blueberry pancakes and fruit slices.

Never let it be said that Alex minces words. She delves straight into the interrogation. “So, you stayed over last night.”

I take a bite of pancake, “Yes. I did.”

Alex gives a thoughtful look, “Okay.”

I’m thinking I’m in the clear until she returns to her line of questioning, “Are you having sex with my mom?”

I choke on the orange juice I was drinking. “You don’t beat around the bush, do you?”

She gives me a hard stare. “Just answer the question.”

Just then I hear a throat clearing at the top of the stairs and Clarke takes over, “The answer to your question is yes, Alex. That’s all the information you get right now.”

Alex shoots both Clarke and I combination smile/glare/eye roll. “ _Fine_.”

Clarke shoots me smirk and gives me a covert thumbs-up. She comes behind me and wraps her arms around my shoulders and kisses my cheek. “And you called _me_ lame?” I shoot her a smile before meeting her lips.

She laughs against my lips, “Oh, shut up…”

Alex is giving us a level look and playful eye roll, “Ugh, you’re _both_ lame…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, Thank you so much for reading!  
> KUDOS are awesome :-)  
> And REVIEWS FEED MY MUSE (That rhymes - which is about as close to poetry as I'll ever get...)


	16. asshole

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little Clarke + Bellamy early history

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the feedback! I've loved reading all of your comments - they give me motivation and make me super happy!

In the weeks since Bellamy and I have reconnected, I can’t get enough of him.  Maybe it’s just the “honeymoon period.”  Maybe part of me is trying to make up for lost time.  Maybe it’s just that I can’t get enough of the way I feel because of him. 

* * *

I met Bellamy in the spring of my sophomore year of undergrad.  Actually, that’s not true.  We technically knew _of_ each other since freshman year.  We went to the same school.  At the time, he was a composition major at the music school, and I started out my undergrad career as a piano performance major (double majoring in biology).  We shared many classes those first two years.  We had mutual friends, but never actually spoke to each other until the spring semester of my sophomore year.  We both were academically obsessive, which led to us being extremely competitive.  Bellamy Blake was a thorn in my side.  He seemed to make it his daily mission to contradict every point I argued in class.  Even when we agreed on something, he would find ways to somehow make it seem like his agreement was _better_.

Bellamy and I finally “formally” introduced ourselves to each other in the spring semester of sophomore year. Only a year and a half of shared classes… We were sitting outside of the classroom before a tonal theory class, because yes, we were the kind of students who showed up to morning classes early.  That particular morning, the door was locked, so instead of being able to enter the room and part ways, we were stuck sitting outside the door glaring at each other.

After about ten minutes of mutual scowling, he broke the silence.  He held out his hand, “I’m Bellamy.”

I looked at his outstretched hand without shaking it, “I know who you are.”

He smirked, “Do you?”

“You’re Bellamy Blake, who likes to make my day hell.  Called me “princess” on our first day of Music Theory. A nickname you can’t seem to drop.”

The fucker smirked _again_ , “You’re free to pick one for me.”

I scoffed back at him, “Oh, I have plenty of names I use to refer to you.”

“Is that right?  Such as?”

“ _Asshole_ is the one I use most often.”

He laughed out loud at that one.  “Come on, you can do better than that.”

“Sorry to disappoint.  I don’t spend a lot of time thinking about you,”  ( _Lie)_   “And, I don’t know you well enough to come up with a suitable nickname.”

“You’re free to change that.”

“Thinking about you?”

He rolled his eyes, “No. Well, sure, that."  He smirked, "But you can get to know me better.”

“I could say the same to you.”

After a few more moments of silence, he held his hand out again. “Hi, I’m Bellamy. It’s nice to meet you.”

I took his hand that time and gave it a firm shake, “I’m Clarke.”

Our theory professor chose that moment to make us aware of his existence.  After he unlocked the door, we followed him into the classroom.  As we made our way in, he addressed us both.  “Clarke, Bellamy, I’m glad to see you two getting along. I’ve paired you up for the Stravinsky Analysis.  You guys will present on The Rite of Spring in 4 weeks.  We’ll be going over the project requirements today.”

We both interjected in unison, “No, no, that’s not a good idea-”

“Oh, I think it’s a great idea.  My two best scholars joining forces to analyze my favorite Stravinsky work?  I couldn’t have planned it better myself.  Wait! I _did_ plan it.”  He could see both of us ready to challenge him again.  “Don’t bother trying to get out of it.  I’ve had you two in mind for this exact project since last semester.”

I decided to concede, “Alright, then.  This should be interesting.”

It was.  We learned our methods balanced each other nicely, and the end result of our collaboration was excellent.  At the end of the semester, our professor lauded our presentation as one of the best he’d seen from his students, patting himself on the back for pairing us together for the project.  The Stravinsky presentation was the first of many productive collaborations in undergrad.  We led a wildly successful study group for the later semesters of Music History, again earning praise from professors who our leadership efforts.  I found out Bellamy was weirdly good at many things.  When I complained about my Physics study group not being nearly as productive as our Music History group, he took it upon himself to join the physics group, despite not being in the class.  He educated himself, staying a little ahead of us in the book so that he had something to offer. He had a talent for helping people understand concepts, even when those concepts were new to him.  Looking back, that’s probably when I developed my shameful weakness for Teacher-Bellamy…

By the end of the semester, Bellamy was one of my closest friends.  The Bellamy vs. Clarke classroom debates didn’t exactly go away, but there were fewer personal digs, and it was less tense for all involved.  We still pushed each other’s buttons, but there was a new mutual respect there.

* * *

My dad _loved_ Bellamy. I complained all the time about the “asshole composer” in my classes.  He thought it was great that I had a friend to challenge my strong opinions.  For a year and a half, I had to correct my dad that “No, the composer guy is _not_ my friend!  We _hate_ each other!”  So, when my dad met Bellamy (after we became friends), he clapped him on the back and said “Thanks for keeping my daughter on her toes these past semesters.” 

Upon hearing that, Bellamy plastered a shit-eating grin on his face and whispered in my ear “Didn’t spend time thinking about me, my ass…”

When my dad died that summer, Bellamy showed up on my doorstep.  He knew what it was like to lose a parent.  He was exactly what I needed – he didn’t pity me, didn’t prompt me to talk about it.  He just let me _be_. That’s when I realized I loved him – not romantically, but platonically.  When I quit music, Bellamy didn’t pester me to keep studying piano, because he knew I had panic attacks when I tried to touch the keys.  He was there when I finally _was_ ready to talk about my dad.  Bellamy helped me find a grief support group and attended meetings with me.  He finally allowed himself to grieve his mother at that time.  We became each other’s pillars of strength.

* * *

My 2nd year of medical school (And Bellamy’s 2nd year of graduate school) was when our relationship shifted.  We were too close to be called “just friends,” but we weren’t dating, either.  Bellamy didn’t “do” relationships. We never approached the subject, choosing to ignore when people called us an “old married couple,” or referred to our sexual tension as “palpable.”  That’s not to say I didn’t think of him that way.  That’s what was so hard – I couldn’t _stop_ thinking about what it would be like if we were actually together.   I couldn’t focus when I was on dates because I was preoccupied, wondering what Bellamy was thinking, or mentally criticizing my date for not doing something Bellamy would have done.  I had accidentally fallen in love with my best friend.

Since I had come to realize, then accept, that I was in love with Bellamy, things were awkward between us.  I didn’t know how to act.  I didn’t know if this was a one-sided attraction, or if he reciprocated my feelings.  I went over the supposed signs that he was into me, but they were all things that Bellamy just did – bringing me coffee when I didn’t even realize I needed it, spending a Friday night watching old movies in my living room instead of going out, offering to walk with me places.  He was always around me.  His plans revolved around what I wanted to do. It had always been that way with us. Was he into me all along?  He was very boyfriend-y. I was confused, but I hated the idea of being rejected by him, so I continued to ignore it.  Except I _really_ wasn’t good at acting normal around him anymore.  I was snappy, short-tempered, and constantly irritated with him for something that wasn’t really his fault.  Our awkwardness came to a head that winter.

* * *

_December 2005_

_My favorite place to study is in the music library on my old campus.  Nobody is ever in here, which is probably my favorite thing about it. Bellamy often joins me here for the same reason – it is quiet.  He was still a student at this school, finishing up his Master’s degree in Classics.  Exams are around the corner, so like most nights this time of year, I’m in a study room. I have my headphones in with my study playlist on eternal repeat._

_A coffee cup slides into my field of vision, so I look up.  Bellamy sets his things down across from me, on ‘his’ side of the table. “Thought you could use this.”_

_I smile awkwardly, “Um, thanks.”_

_He rolls his eyes, “Okay. Spill it, Griffin.  What the fuck is going on?”_

_I go back to flipping through my notecards. “Nothing... Nothing is going on.”_

_He drops the subject and we go back to studying. An hour goes by before he suddenly interjects, “That’s bullshit, Clarke.  What aren’t you telling me?”_

_I’m clearly not going to be getting any more studying done, so I start packing my bag to leave.  “Just drop it, Bellamy.  It’s nothing.”_

_He looks angry, “Fine, Clarke.  Just walk away.  That’ll solve things.”_

_I walk out of the library and hit the elevator button.  As I tap my feet waiting for the elevator doors to open, I pray he doesn’t come walking after me.  At the same time, I really wish he would.  The doors open and I walk in, hitting the button for the lobby as well as the “door close” button.  When the elevator starts moving, I breathe a sigh of relief that I don’t have to deal with anyone else today.  The building is practically empty, except for the cleaning staff and a few random administrative people.  I’m almost to my car when I hear Bellamy clear his throat behind me._

_I turn around to face him, “WHAT?  What do you want?”_

_He yells back at me, “For you to talk to me.  Stop shutting me out.”_

_He’s right. I’m shutting him out. He doesn’t deserve the treatment I’m giving him, not without an explanation. We stare at each other for a solid minute before I finally blurt out, “I’m in love with you, you fucking idiot.”_

_He sighs and looks down at his feet.  “Fuck.”_

_“Yeah, that’s what I figured. I’m going home.”   I turn around to walk back to my car._

_“Wait.  Clarke, please, just wait!”_

_I stop walking but don’t turn around.  I don’t want him to see the tears threatening to fall.  He runs and catches up, stopping when he gets to me.  He grips my shoulders and turns me around to face him.  I still won’t meet his eyes, but he talks anyway.  “You’re not in love with me, Clarke. You’re not.”_

_“Fuck you!  You don’t know that.”_

_“No, you can’t be. Okay?”_

_“You think I WANT to be hung up on you? Do you know how many relationships I have fucked over because I keep waiting for you to come around? Knowing you never fucking will?”_

_He doesn’t say anything, so I scoff and start walking again.  He grabs my hand and spins me around to face him.  He cradles my cheeks and tells me, “We wouldn’t work, Clarke.  That kind of relationship won’t work between us.”_

_I swat his hands off of me, “How the fuck would you know?  I haven’t seen you in a relationship the entire time I’ve known you!”_

_“Exactly! I ruin relationships.  This-” he gestures between us “- is too important to me to fuck up.”_

_“That is such a coward’s answer, Bell!  It breaks my heart that you won’t even try.”_

_With an exasperated whisper, he says “I can’t fuck us up.”_

_Tears are streaming down my face now.  “That’s okay, Bellamy.  You don’t have to worry about fucking ‘us’ up.  I already did.”_

_I start walking again.  He blocks the way to my car and holds his hands on my shoulders again, “Clarke.  Clarke, please.”_

_My entire body tenses up as I smack his hands away,  “Don’t touch me!” He recoils, looking hurt.  I feel humiliated and rejected.  This was exactly what I feared he would do, and it’s why I didn’t want to tell him._

_He looks defeated, which breaks my heart.  “I’m sorry, Clarke.  I’m so sorry.  We can’t.  We can only be friends.”_

_I make a dismissive hand gesture, “I’ll get over it, okay?”  He keeps searching my face, desperate for things to go back to how they used to be.  “Really, I’ll get over it, okay? I will.  But right now I need you to let me go.”  He still won’t move.  My voice is a tear-stained whisper, “Bellamy, please.”_

_He steps out of my way and I pass him to get to my car.  I drive away without looking back.  I get as far as a few blocks before I have to pull over.  It’s too hard to breathe – like someone is sitting on my chest and I can’t do anything to move them off. I feel broken.  I don’t know how long I stay parked there while I calm myself down, but my car is freezing by the time I stop crying.  
_

_I call Lexa.  She brings over a mountain junk food and a few seasons of Gray’s Anatomy. I’m not going to get any more studying done in this condition.  To be honest, I already knew what I needed to know for exams._

* * *

_Bellamy and I don’t see each other again until after winter break.  Bellamy has started seeing someone, Roma.  I want to be happy for them. I want to like her, but I can’t.  I can’t handle seeing them together.  I find more and more reasons to avoid being around him, until we stop talking altogether._

* * *

_We go months without speaking.  It was heartbreaking to be rejected, but it’s worse not seeing him.  I miss my friend. I don’t know how to get “us” back, though. I’m doing okay otherwise, though.  I still have Lexa.  We’ve become closer in Bellamy’s absence.  She reminds me that I’m not alone._

* * *

_June 2006_

_It’s the 4 th anniversary of my dad’s death.  I have a ritual for this day.  I’ve come here every year with Bellamy, where he would sit with me on the park bench at his grave.  Sometimes I told him stories about my childhood. Other times, we would have regular conversations, as if we were at a coffee shop.  Other times, we would read books to ourselves.  We would just sit here together.  This year, I’m alone.  I spend a few hours sitting hours at his grave reading a book, but eventually I’m talking to his headstone. _

_“Dad… I fucked everything up.  I lost my best friend – you remember him?  The Asshole composer?  I lost him because I couldn’t stop myself from falling for him.  I finally told him, and it ruined everything.  He doesn’t love me.  For a while, every time I saw him, it felt like I was breaking all over again.  It hurt too much, so I’ve distanced myself from him. We haven’t even talked to each other in months.  I thought it was better this way, but it’s not. It sucks. I miss him, Dad...”_

_I hear Bellamy’s voice behind me, “I miss you, too.”  Apparently he has fucking ninja skills, because I had no idea he was even there.  He sits down next to me and wraps his arm around my shoulder._

_I lean into him, wiping away tears that have been threatening to fall all day.  I huff out a laugh, “What makes you think I’m talking about you, asshole?”_

_“Weren’t you?”_

_“You’re a conceited ass.”_

_He shrugs his shoulders and we share a much-needed laugh._

_And just like that, we were back to the old Clarke and Bellamy._

_We make small talk that isn’t awkward. We catch each other up on the last six months._

_“How is Roma?”_

_“Who?” He looks confused. “Oh, Roma, yeah.” He shakes his head, “Um, she broke up with me months ago.”_

_I huff out a laugh, “Wow.”_

_He rolls his eyes, “I told you, I don’t do relationships.”_

_I shrug, “I didn’t like her, anyway.”_

_Bellamy nods his head but doesn’t say anything.  We fall into a comfortable silence for a while.  I read my book, he pulls out a crossword puzzle.  Besides him occasionally asking for answers on the crossword puzzle, we don’t talk.  But the point of him being there never was to talk.  The point was just to be there._

_“Bellamy?”_

_“Hmm?”_

_“Thanks for coming.”_

_“Anytime, Clarke.”_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm working on the next chapter now, so hopefully I'll have that up soon :-)


	17. cherries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bell and Clarke bring out some new toys, and they're getting a little kinky... 
> 
> (Or: Seven thousand words of kinky smut. You're welcome.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the reviews and kudos so far!!!
> 
> These two are finally getting kinky, but it's introduced gently and it builds up through the chapter gradually. 
> 
> **Trigger warning**  
> This chapter includes erotic pain, and use of a flogger. If you are uncomfortable with that kind of thing, be aware that the first part of this chapter is centered on Clarke's process as she is embracing pain. 
> 
> The other half of the chapter has Bellamy and Clarke utilizing "E-Stim" (Electronic Stimulation). The toy they use provides pleasure via electric current. Note: Bellamy does NOT use this as a pain tool here. Pleasure only (and ohhh, what pleasure it is)...

I walk into the bedroom and I’m greeted with Bellamy’s bare back. _Fuck…_ He’s faced away from me, messing with something on the bed. He told me we could try something new today, but I’d have to be a good girl. Dear _god_ , when he says ‘good girl,’ it’s like the floodgates literally open. More than once, I’ve had to get a fucking change of underwear because of how shamefully wet I get hearing his sinful voice telling me I’m a “good girl.” He knows it, too. He’ll sometimes find a way to work it into a conversation when he innocently calls me over my lunch break, and I spend my day wanting to kill/fuck him for it.

I take a few moments to admire the view of his beautiful back muscles, and I bring a finger to the corner of my mouth, just to make sure I’m not _actually_ drooling. I like to think of myself as a patient woman, but when I see _this_ , my panties drop off my hips, almost of their own accord. He doesn’t seem to realize that I’ve come in, so I decide to make my presence known by tossing my lacy pale-pink tanga on the bed in front of him. He snatches them up with one hand and I hear him growl, which gives me a wicked thrill. He still hasn’t turned around, but I can feel the tension in him – he’s ready to snap.

“Clarke,” he says warningly. “You can’t do this and expect me not to fuck the shit out of you right now.”

I walk up closer behind him, and lower my voice just slightly, “Oh, I _fully_ expect that.”

He’s still facing away from me, but I can _feel_ the smirk I know is on his face. When I’m about a foot from him, he springs on me – turning around, gripping my hips and pulling me into him, all in one smooth movement. Yup, the smirk is there. He moves his hands to my ass and pulls me against him, and I can feel his growing erection against my abdomen.

He nips softly at my earlobe, “I thought you wanted to watch a movie, princess.”

I shrug my shoulders nonchalantly, “I changed my mind.”

He digs his fingers into my ass cheeks and growls in my ear, “Is that right?”

I nod my head, “Yeah. Fuck the movie idea. Fuck me instead.” I wink at him with a naughty smile.

“I love it when you talk dirty.”

“What _ever_ do you mean?” I’m pretty sure any attempt to look innocent failed miserably there… I lift my head up and back so I can see his face - eyes darkened with desire and lips slightly parted. It’s taking everything I have not to jump him right now.

I’ve learned that as much as I love our kinky sex, I love our vanilla sex, too. Sometimes it’s nice to be on the same level. The operative word being _sometimes_. Bellamy giving me orders is something I will never have too much of. Even when we’re engaging in power play, it doesn’t always have to be kinky. Sometimes it’s a matter of him simply ordering me to keep my hands on his hair when he’s eating me out. Even though that’s a normal/typical action by the vanilla receiver of oral sex, something about being commanded to do it makes it that much hotter for me. _“Princess, you’re gonna keep your hands in my hair the entire time I’m tongue-fucking you. That’s an order. Understood?”_ Ohhh yeah, he figured out my “taking orders” kink pretty quickly, and I couldn’t be happier with his steep learning curve.  

I don’t think he’d necessarily _mind_ a round of vanilla sex. Who am I kidding, Bellamy is down and dirty for _any_ kind of sex. But, there are a host of kinky-looking toys displayed on the bed, and it’s my guess that he’s looking forward to using some of them tonight. And to be honest, I might be even more excited than he is.

“So talk to me. Tell me about these.” I gesture at the array of toys.

“Tonight, I’m thinking we’d enjoy some... toys.” Oh boy… Teacher-Bellamy is in play. I’ll repeat my panty-dropping declaration from earlier. It’s pretty much impossible to keep underwear on when I’m around this man…

I feel an eager smile cross my face. “I like how that sounds. Educate me.” He smirks. Yup, he just figured out the Teacher-Bellamy kinks. Well, I have no doubt he figured it out a while ago, but his predatory body language just confirms that he knows.

He holds up a strip of satin. “This is a blindfold.”

“I know what a blindfold is, Bellamy.”

I’m met with an eye roll. “Okay princess, how about you show me.  What would you like me to _educate_ you on?”

I look down at the all the little tools and toys, running my fingers over them lightly. I settle on a flogger. “I know this is a flogger, but there are different kinds, right?”

He smiles, “Correct.” _Shit, that might be another floodgate-opening phrase of approval._ “This one is soft, made of deerskin. It provides a light sensation. For you, I’d start with a soft technique that feels more like a caress than a whip. Depending on how I swing it, I can provide a light stroking to a heavy lashing. I have a few other floggers that are made of various materials that produce different sensations. There are almost endless possibilities with these.”

I smile gently, “I’d like you to use that on me.” I continue, “What if I want more than just a gentle caress? What if I want to see how much I can take?”

“If that’s something you want tonight, we can try it. I don’t want you to feel pressured to try it just because it’s here. There’s absolutely no rush, okay?”

“I know. Can I decide as we get there?”

“Yes, you can.”

I nod in agreement. “Alright.” I continue to brush my fingers over the toys. “Oooh, I recognize this one – we use it when we’re testing sensations with neuro patients! It’s a wheel, named after a guy whose names starts with a ‘W.’ I think.”

“Correct.” _There it is again. Yup, that’s a turn-on._ “The Wartenberg wheel. It looks menacing, but it’s a tame instrument when used properly. I’m sure someone could do some damage with it, but I’m not an idiot.”

I come across a case and open it up to find a TENS unit. “I know this one! Some women ask to use it for labor pain – Transcutaneous Electrical Nerve Stimulation.  It's a TENS unit. I also used these when I was an athletic assistant in High School – we’d place it over muscle groups and make them contract – _oh, oh, oh!_ I get what this one will do!” I pick up an attachment that looks like a dildo and hold it up for appraisal. “Oh my, does this attachment do what I think it does? Like you put this in—OH holy fucking shit – I bet that would feel incredible.” I’m shamelessly panting at this point… “OhMyFuckingGod, _PLEASE,_ Bellamy, can we do this one first?”

Bellamy looks at me slack-jawed. “Seriously, Princess? I actually didn’t even mean to bring this out because it looks pretty fucking intimidating. Like, these attachments would scare the fuck out of the typical newbie.”

“Bellamy, I think it’s safe to say that I’m not typical. But more relevantly, given my medical background and previous – albeit non-sexual – experience with TENS units, it doesn’t scare me at all. And it’s taking everything I have not to just grab it and run so I can lock myself in a room with it.”

“Princess,” he turns me around so I can look at myself in the mirror. “You’re literally bouncing on your toes. There’s no fucking _way_ I’m denying you this. Here’s the catch, though – your pussy has to be shaved for the electrode pads to work.”

I can’t help but smirk, “Well, there’s a _delightful_ coincidence. I happened to shave myself smooth when I took my shower this morning. I heard that being bare makes everything more sensitive down there. So I wanted to give that a try.”

He looks pleasantly surprised, “Well, that _is_ serendipitous.” He has a greedy smile on his face now.

I can feel the ridiculously excited grin on my face. “Bell, you’ll keep the frequency and intensity low? Like, I just want stimulation, like muscle contractions, I don’t want any painful shit just yet... _God_ it's ridiculous how bad I want this right now.”

“Patience, Princess.” I’m tiring of this ‘patience princess’ statement… “We’ll get to it, but it’s not gonna be the opening act.” He winks at me and my knees go weak.

I release a frustrated moan. “So let’s get to it already…”

“Oh my god, Clarke, you’re fucking insatiable.” The look on his face would best be described as _pleased._

“You bet your well-toned ass I am.” I stand in front of him, bouncing on the balls of my feet, worrying my lower lip, with an undoubtedly ravenous look in my eye.

Bellamy smiles fondly and forcefully pulls me against him. He bends his head and curves it around my neck, almost reaching the nape, where he nibbles before whispering his sinful, dirty words in my ear. I rub my thighs together in anticipation… “You’re fucking unbelievable, Princess... I can’t wait to fucking _wreck_ you, and you’re going to _love_ it…” This earns from me a brazen moan as I close my eyes and drop my head back. He continues with his verbal ministrations, “Your gorgeous body is my instrument, and I’m gonna play it with devastating precision… You’re gonna _fall apart_ under my fingertips.”

Bellamy tucks his hands under the collar of my button-down blouse and in one quick motion rips it open, sending buttons flying across the room.  I'm left in a pale pink bra matching the panties I tossed at him earlier. This destruction is making me... tingly. Next he tears my skirt from my hips and it drops to the ground around my feet.

He plants a biting kiss on my lips and whispers against them, “Is this really happening? Are _you_ really happening?” He smiles and presses his forehead to mine. “I have to be fucking dreaming… Fucking pinch me…”

“You first, sir.” I get my own little thrill when I call him ‘Sir’ in the bedroom, and his voracious glare tells me he’s as appreciative of it as I am.

He smirks, “As you wish, Princess.” He sneaks a hand inside my bra and pinches a nipple. I growl in surprised delight, “We’re _not_ dreaming, sir.”

“Getting started… Do you want a blindfold on for your first flogging?”

“Is it okay if I say no?”

“It is _always_ okay if you say no.” His voice returns to normal for a minute, “Clarke, you have the real control here. You say stop, we stop. You can always use your safe word. Okay?” His face is reassuring.

I nod, “I understand, sir.”

“And your safe word is?”

“Red for hard stop, Yellow for slow down.”

“Good girl.” _Great, now my thighs are fucking dripping…_

I nod, my knees trembling.

“Do you know what good girls get?”

“What do they get, sir?” I give him a wry smile.

“They get rewarded.” I feel a thrill shoot through me at this prospect.

“How, sir?”

“They get to come, Princess…”

I feel a broad smile cross my face as I start bouncing with excitement.

“Go stand there at the side of the bed.” I quickly obey. Bellamy steps behind me and unhooks my bra, divesting me of my last remaining item of clothing. He reaches around and cups my breasts in his hands, giving them a firm squeeze before he harshly pinches my nipples. I rub my thighs together furiously as I thrust my chest forward in an effort to maintain contact.

His hands travel languidly around my body as he makes his way to my backside. He cups my ass and starts to massage the cheeks. “I’m warming up your skin. This way you can handle more for longer.”

“I can handle more _what_ , Sir?”

“Pain. If you so choose.”

My body positively  _vibrates_ with need. “Thank you.”

He furrows his brows, “For what, Princess?”

“For taking care of me.”

A beautiful smile spreads across his beautiful face, and I feel a familiar sense of safety. “I always will.” He reaches around me and picks up the flogger. “Run your fingers through it.”

I do as he asks, feeling the soft material as I pass my fingers over and through it. “It’s so soft.”

“Like I told you, with everything we do, we start low and slow.”

I nod. “I understand.”

He guides me over to the corner of the bed. “Hands on the bedpost.” I comply, raising my hands to the sturdy wood post. “ _Good girl_.” I close my eyes as a tremor runs through my body. I hear a soft swishing sound behind me. I open my eyes and view the two of us in the mirror. He hasn’t touched me with the flogger yet. I see him gently sway it in a figure-eight motion. I hear my breath hitch when I look at the muscles on his forearm flex and release as he controls the movements of the flogger. He looks at his instrument with such reverence. He then gazes over my body, deciding where to land the first stroke. I flinch, expecting a sting, so I am pleasantly surprised when I feel a soothing caress over my backside. After a few gentle strokes there, he moves his attention, in a pattern of unhurried sweeps up my sides and languid drags along the line of my spine.

“That feels… delightful.”

“It feels good?”

I nod my head, “Yes, sir.” He maintains soft strokes on my skin... so soft they leave goosebumps in their wake.

“Tell me what you want, Princess.”

“I want it harder… But just a little bit harder, sir.”  He indulges my request. It’s just slightly firmer, but not remotely stinging. I’m focused on the graceful movement of his arms as they move through the air.

“How does that feel.”

“Soft, sir.”

“Tell me what you want.”

“I want it harder, sir.”

“Remember, low and slow. If it gets too demanding too soon, you won’t be able to handle the flogger as long.”

“I trust you. If you think I should go slower, I’ll wait.” I see him nod in the mirror. I’m awed by his concentration. He goes back to giving the same soft-ish strokes. They’re not painful, just _there_. It’s grounding me in the moment, in a way. I watch him, dazed by the fluidity of his actions – it’s beautiful.

I don’t know how long he’s been at it, but I snap out of my daze when I hear him say my actual name – that’s usually reserved for when I’m not responding. “Clarke. Clarke, are you with me?”

I nod, “I’m with you. Sorry I checked out there.”

“You doing alright?”

“More than... I got caught up watching you in the mirror – watching the way you move. It’s beautiful.” He nods, looking like he’s not quite sure how to respond to that.

After a few moments he speaks. “I think we need to establish a check-in system of sorts.”

“What’s that?”

“It’s kind of like a safe word, but the other direction. We use it as a signal that you’re still with me. I’m concerned that in the future, if and when scenes get heavier, you’ll get too far into subspace and won’t use your safe word when you should. ”

“Okay… What kind of system?”

“We could do a ‘squeeze’ system – I squeeze your hand twice, and you give me two squeezes back. This would also be useful in the future if you’re gagged and can’t _say_ red or yellow.” I feel a sudden thrill go through me when I think about being gagged.

“Okay. If you squeeze my hand twice, I will squeeze back twice. What happens if I don’t squeeze back?”

“I pause the scene until I make sure you’re okay.”

After a few moments of thought, I respond, “Alright, that sounds like a good idea. But what if it’s like, cumbersome to do a squeeze test?”

He frowns, “How do you mean?”

“Like, now – your body is moving while you’re doing the flogging, and it would be awkward to come around and squeeze my hand while still flogging. So you’d have to stop or something to come around and squeeze my hand, right? But if you stop but I’m still ‘good to go,’ the vibe is interrupted for no reason, you know?”

He smirks, “You concerned about interrupting the pain, Princess?”

I roll my eyes, “If I’m enjoying it, yes.”

His eyes darken in obvious arousal, but his voice maintains an even, controlled tone. “Then for the sake of _not_ unnecessarily interrupting the vibe, I’ll ask for a word. What word do you want me to ask for?”

I think for a minute for a word I can remember easily but won’t kill my mood… “Cherries.”

“That works. So it’ll be like this – I’ll say, ‘give me your word,’ and you’ll say?”

“Cherries.”

“Perfect.” He looks at me carefully, “You okay to go on?”

I nod, “Yes. Definitely. _Please_.” I’m sounding a little desperate, and Bellamy responds with a smirk.

“Okay, princess. Do you still want me to go harder?”

“Yes, I’m ready for that.” He returns to making circular and figure-eight motions in the air with the flogger.

“I landed those soft strokes in various places on your body, but as I start to give you painful strokes, they'll be localized to the fleshy part of your ass.”

I nod furiously, “Yes. _Yes._ Do that.” Yeah, I’m sounding shamelessly eager…

This time the lashes have a little bit of bite to them. I feel about a dozen lashes before I start to feel a distinct stinging, though it’s not entirely unpleasant. He lands them on both cheeks, hitting different areas each time. My guess would be that spreading out the surface area enables me to endure it longer. Between harder hits, he gives a soft caress, giving my skin rests. I count another two dozen, then he speaks up again.

“Tell me what you’re feeling, Princess.”

“I feel… good. It stings a bit, but it’s not unbearable.”

“Do you want more?”

“Yes, _please.”_

“Okay. When you say ‘more’ do you mean that you want more of the same intensity or a harder intensity?”

I take a few moments to consider the question, “You can go a little harder, but is it possible to slow the speed?”

“I can.” And he does. I like this – it’s harder, and the stings are sharper, but I’m granted an extra couple of milliseconds of recovery time. In all honesty, I don’t think the rest period makes the lashes less painful. If anything, it actually in a harsher pain. I think giving the skin’s surface those extra moments of recovery makes the next lash all the more intense. But the feeling is _enjoyable_. I don’t hate it.

“How are you doing, Princess?”

My eyes remain closed, “Really, _really_ , _good,_ Sir.” After a few moments, I add “Harder, please. Sir.” I open my eyes after a few seconds of not feeling an increase in pressure.

I look at him in the mirror, and he appears to be hesitating. “Give me your word, Princess.”

I smile, “Cherries.” He nods, then the next lash is a little harsher, definitely stinging. I yelp in surprise, and he looks at me in the mirror. I catch his eye and nod, encouraging him not to stop. The next few hits genuinely sting.   I can feel my muscles tense up and he goes back to a lighter stroke. I close my eyes to devote my consciousness to accepting the sensations Belllamy gives me as they start to sting more. I relax my muscles and another harsh sting lands on my backside, but I concentrate on keeping myself relaxed. The strands continue to land, steadily and painfully, but I maintain steady breaths and keep my muscles only tense enough to remain standing. Right now, I’m really wishing I was tied up on something so I could just _let go_.

I'm now aware that the lashes are becoming soft again. I open my eyes to see what’s going on. “What’s happening?”

“You’ve taken a lot, Princess.”

“It doesn’t feel like a lot.”

“It'll feel like a lot tomorrow. And it’s your first time. Remember low and slow. Trust me?”

I nod my head, “I trust you.”

He smiles approvingly, “You’re doing so well, Princess.”

He gradually comes to a stop and retrieves a tube of something. “This is arnica cream. It’s a homeopathic remedy, helps with bruising.” He points at the bed, “Lay on your stomach on the bed.” After I’m positioned, he starts to gently massage it into my burning, tender skin. Okay, yeah it's a little more sensitive than I thought.  

“Do you think it’ll bruise?”

“No. But it won’t hurt to put it on.” I’m almost disappointed. (Another reaction I’ll file away for later analysis). Then he leans over and tells me in a low voice, “I’ll take any excuse to get my hands on your ass. You did good, Princess… _Really_ good.”  He grabs a jar of something else. “Lavender salve. It’s a soothing formula. Again – I get to put my hands on your ass.” He rubs the salve into my cheeks, “Open your legs.” I quickly comply, and I can fucking _hear_ how wet I am as my legs separate. I bury my face into the sheets on the bed, totally mortified. Apparently he is marveling at it, though. “ _Holy fucking shit, Princess… This_ is what gathered during your flogging?” He rubs his free hand over his face. “ _Fuck…”_ He rolls me back over so I’m facing upwards.

“You were a good girl.” I nod in agreement. “ _Such_ a good girl…” He strokes my cheek gently. “Do you remember what good girls get?”

I’m bite into my lower lip with an innocent smile, “They get to come, sir.”

“I believe you were looking forward to playing with a certain item.”

I nod furiously , “Yes, _YES, please_!”

“Are you good to keep going or do you want a break?”

“Is that a serious question?” He looks at me expectantly. “No, I don’t want a break.”  

He smirks. “Alright, then.” He brings over the box containing the TENS unit. It looks like a simple black electrical box. Inside the case, there are a few attachments. One is a hard shaft, kind of dildo-like. Another one is a anal plug, which is something I’ve never experienced, but I'm genuinely curious about. There are also sticky electrode pads that are already connected to wires. “As a whole, this is usually referred to as E-Stim, for electrical stimulation. Just FYI.” _Great, Teacher-Bellamy… That is not going to help my self-control…_ “There are a ton of ways to apply these to achieve different sensations and effects. We’ll try a few different ones tonight."

I nod frenziedly, my mind reeling with the possibilities. “Okay.”

His voice lowers, “Here’s the thing, Princess, I want to fuck the hell out of you _now_.” I groan shamelessly. “So, the first one we’re going to do is going to allow me to fuck you _and_ stim you. I don't know how much longer I can handle not being inside of you.”

I groan, "Then _do_ it!"  I add, " _Please,_ sir."  

He pulls my legs straight, then hooks his hands underneath my knees so they bend. “Open your legs, princess.” They fall open and as the outsides of my thighs touch the mattress, I can again hear how wet I am as my legs spread apart. “ _Jesus Christ.._.” This time I just moan in response. I’m past hiding my face. “Your pussy is _delectable_ ” He bends down to lick me clean. “God, and when I taste you, it’s inebriating… I get drunk on you, Princess…”

I’m my own kind of drunk right now… “ _Mmmmm_ , god, Bell you make me feel so fucking good…”

He is licking circles around my pussy, starting wide, encompassing my now ultra-sensitive outer lips. He lifts his mouth every couple of licks to whisper his filthy prose against my cunt, and I can feel my inner muscles contracting involuntarily in response to his breath on me.

“I’ve never demanded a shaved peach, but I’ve gotta say, Princess, this is a treat…”

I giggle, “So if I was to get a Brazilian, you’d be okay with that?”

I feel him smirk against my cunt, “I wouldn’t be opposed, Princess.”

“Okay. ‘Cause last weekend you were talking about how you preferred it, and I quote, ‘natural but well-groomed.’”

His voice returns to normal, “Clarke, your pussy is just that – yours – okay? Some Doms will make demands of what their sub does with their body. That’s not me, okay? If you want it bare, then do it. If you want it wildly unkempt, do that. I’m not going to give orders about your body, especially not the most intimate part of you.”

I lift my head up to look at him. I can’t control my love for this man.  I remind myself that I really need to tell him about that - love - soon. To be honest, I’d be willing to do whatever he asked in this regard – he knows what’s going to feel most pleasurable, but I love that he’ll let me maintain autonomy over this. He knows that while I have a craving for his control in the bedroom, I might resent being controlled outside of it.

“Thank you.” I smile down at him, and he gives me one of his stunning smiles in return. “Bell, you’re amazing. I’m so fucking lucky to have you.”

He smirks, “Not as lucky as me.” He kisses the inside of my thigh, leaving gentle nips along in a line leading toward my heat.

“I’ll think about it. I’d have to wait a few weeks for a wax, anyway.”

“Okay. Until then…” He sweeps his lips across my bare lips again, and I throw my head back against the sheets again, moaning when he flicks his tongue lightly over my clit.

 _“_ Oh, _fuck_ , that’s good… Do that again!”

“Do that again, _what_?” Back to Dom mode.

“Please do that again _Sir!_ ” I almost shriek the ‘sir’ as he immediately obliges my request, sweeping a little more firmly over my clit this time. Then he lets up, and I let out a frustrated huff.

“Patience, Princess… We’ll get you there. And I _promise_ you, it’ll be worth the wait.” His words are like erotic strokes on my mind.   He goes back to licking circles around my cunt. He licks gentle strokes on my outer lips, then sweeps his tongue inside my folds to caress my inner lips. I hear _obscene_ slurping sounds, but when he growls in appreciation for my response to his ministrations, I lose any inhibitions that may have caused me to feel embarrassed about it. He’s denying my clit the attention it so desperately craves, making me fuss while I attempt to thrust my hips where I want them…

He smirks, looking smug as he lifts himself away and pulls me up into a sitting position. He stands up and starts to speak again as he clears away the rest of the toys that are spread out on the bed.

“Okay, so you get another choice, since we’re again introducing something new.” I nod in acknowledgement and he continues, “Do you want restraints for this or would you like your hands free?”

“If my hands are free, there’s no telling what they’ll do.” That’s the truth. I’m totally out of even my own control at this point. “So please… _restrain me_ … Sir _.”_ I know he gets a thrill when I ask him to tie me up, which of course thrills me in return.

His pupils are blown out and he takes a deep breath. I can see the excitement reeling off of him at the opportunity to bind my limbs. “As you wish, Princess.” He retrieves some leather cuffs then walks back in front of me so he can gently buckle them around my wrists. After each wrist is secured, he connects them together with another buckle of some sort. The leather cuffs are new to me. Rigid and firm, but lined with a soft padded material against my wrists.

“Why no ropes this time, sir?”

“For one thing, these are quicker. But more importantly, these are more comfortable when you’re pulling against them. And I have a feeling you’re going to be pulling _hard_ once we get started.” He must see my alarmed expression because he speaks again, “Oh, Princess, you’ll be pulling from ecstasy.” I breathe a sigh of relief. “You just have a tendency to jerk violently against your restraints when I make you come hard." He smiles gently, "I don’t want you hurting yourself.”

“You just think of everything, don’t you?” I can feel a lop-sided smile on my face.

He nods and pulls my face to his, placing a kiss on my lips that’s so gentle, it’s almost out of place. “I try, Princess.” He kisses me again, this time with breathtaking intensity, parting my lips with his tongue, moaning when my mouth opens to grant him entrance. He cards his fingers through my hair, cupping the back of my head, while his other hand explores my body, sweeping over my neck, then across my chest, brushing lightly over my nipples. My chest automatically thrusts forward as I release a desperate moan. I can feel how satisfied he is with my body’s involuntary responses to his methodical touches.

As an unspoken rule, Bellamy persistently and skillfully avoids the most sensitive parts of me, and the anticipation has my body nearly vibrating. I have an image of a perfectly tuned upright bass (the kind in orchestras, not the ones used by rock stars), the taut strings freshly plucked, throbbing with deep intensity. I’ve learned to appreciate, even crave, his teasing touches, because it makes my release so _incredibly explosive_.

I could lose myself forever in this kiss, but he breaks it to whisper in my ear, “Scoot back to the middle of the bed.” While I’m doing so, he walks to the other side. I turn my head to look behind me and I see him bend down to bring up a strap with some sort of fastener.

I chuckle at this new development. “Jesus, is this bed a transformer or something? Hidden straps?”

He laughs, “It’s got a secret identity… And I’ve used this strap with you before – our first night together. Now lie down on your back and give me your wrists.”

While doing as he asks, I think about what he was saying.  I was so far gone that night, the details are hazy, but when I look up at the mirrors on the ceiling above me, I distinctly recall seeing a similar image – my arms stretched above me while he attaches my wrists to something at the edge of the bed.

I feel him squeeze my hand twice, so I squeeze back twice, recognizing this is our recently agreed-upon check-in signal.

“You remembered.  Good girl.” _And the floodgates open…_

“Mmmm, yes sir.”

“Pull hard a few times for me, Princess.” I quickly comply, finding the bonds to be unyielding and inescapable. “Do you feel any pain or tingling in your fingers or under the cuffs?”

I shake my head, “No, Sir.”

“And your shoulders – are they comfortable enough?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good girl.” I close my eyes, feeling the smile across my face reach my soul.

He walks back around the bed as he unbuckles his belt and steps out of his pants and boxers, his erection free of its confines. The sight of Bellamy, unabashed in his nakedness, makes me ridiculously aroused (as if I actually need to be hornier than I already am). I don’t realize I’ve moaned out loud until he asks me, “Everything alright, Princess?” The shit-eating grin on his face tells me he knows _exactly_ how ‘alright’ everything is.

“I’m just looking forward to you being inside of me, Sir.”

“Soon, Princess. Soon.” He’s back at my feet again. He takes a seat on the bed and pivots so he is facing me, looking in my eyes.

He reaches over and takes the electrode pads out of the case. “So for this first round, I’m not going to use any insertion attachments. We’ll stick to the external pads. I’m not kidding when I tell you it’ll be _intense_.” I gasp, which he must find amusing. Or endearing. Based on his smile, I’m going with endearing.

I smile back at him as he continues on, in Teacher-Bellamy mode. “We’ll have a bit of trial-and-error as we figure out exactly the most pleasurable placement. We do it _around_ the clit, not on it.”

“How will you know if it’s in the best spot?”

He chuckles, “Your response. Also, I can see if the right areas are contracting. From what I'm told, and what I've seen, the sensation is incredible.”

I thrust my hips upwards, hinting at him to do it already.

“And you know how TENS works?”

I huff in exasperation, “Yes, yes – the electric current stimulates the nerves, and if applied correctly, stimulating muscle contractions.”

He laughs at my impatience. “Correct. And the electrodes—”

I cut him off, “—Have to be in contact with my skin to conduct the current to the appropriate muscles. I know, I know. PLEASE _PLEASE!_ Just DO it already!”

He looks at me sternly, like he’s observing a bratty toddler (which, to be honest, I’m kind of acting like one). I know that I have to apologize for my obnoxious behavior. He does _not_ appreciate being interrupted in here…

I take a deep breath and compose myself before calmly continuing, “I’m sorry for being impatient, Sir. I’ll be good now.”

“Good girl.” He smiles and it feels like a hug. “Now, spread open for me.” I do so without delay. Considering I almost knock the case out of the way, I may have been a little _too_ quick in my obedience. I can’t see the fine details of where he’s placing them in the mirror, but I can _feel_ where they're placed. Two of them are placed to each side of my clit, but not directly over it or touching the hood. He places the other two on the outer lips, close to the hollow junction near my inner thighs. After making sure they’re firmly attached, he gives me a quick warning. “Okay, I’m going to turn it on, now.”

I nod my head, biting my lip.

“Don’t bite your lip, princess – I don’t want you to hurt it.”

I comply with a nod of my head. “Good girl.”

“So is it really supposed to be that good? OH _GOD_!” He turns the unit on and thank _god_ my lip wasn’t between my teeth because I would have bitten right through it. The sound coming out of me sounds something like a roar, but a girl version? I don’t have a high-pitched voice, but it’s still female. I can’t create actual roars, but if I could…

“Holyfuckingshit! Oh!! My! GOD! …OH _FUCK,_ Bellamy!”

And the fucker turns it off.

He grins like a Cheshire cat, “Tell me what you were feeling, Princess.”

I have to close my eyes and compose my thoughts. I open them again to answer him, “It felt _intense_. I felt like my clit was being sucked on, and squeezed, in just the right way.”

He grins, “Good.” He turns the unit back on again, and I feel my eyes rolling back in my head. I feel like pure pleasure is rocking rhythmically through my body. It’s like a gentle orgasm, only there’s no buildup, just steady and unending. He lets me enjoy it for a little while before he turns it off again. I groan in frustration and open my eyes. I lift my head up and see that he’s taping the wires to my legs. I suspect I there will be movement and he doesn’t want the pads ripping off. He presses the last of the tape onto me then disconnects the wires from the TENS unit.

He squeezes my thighs to get my attention. “Alright, Princess. You’re going to turn over onto your stomach, then get onto your hands and knees.” Before I can object, “I know, the restraints – I’m not sadistic. Well, I am.” He laughs at himself, “But I don’t want you hurting yourself. I’m going to put you in a modified knees-and-shoulders position.” I move onto my knees and start to bend over and I realize that it _would_ be difficult to balance my front half with my wrists bound together. He puts pressure between my shoulder blades to encourage me to keep going down, pressing until my elbows and forearms are resting on the bed. My head is bowed between my arms, and I feel like I’m praying. And maybe I am...

“I’m not gonna ask you to control your orgasms with these attached. It'll be completely impossible.” I can hear him reattach the wires to the unit and I’m tensed up like a bow string, throbbing with anticipation. Then, I feel him massage my ass cheeks again, then knead his fingers up my back and along my sides. His erection brushes against me as he moves his hands higher up my body. My muscles relax again little by little, and I take some relaxed deep breaths. He straightens up on his knees behind me and turns the TENS unit back on without warning.

“Oh _FUCK!_ ” The pleasure is blinding and my legs are threatening to give out…

“That feel good, Princess?”

“Oh, _fuck_ yes, it feels so good.” He turns the unit off.

“Feels so good what?”

“It feels so good, _Sir_ ,”

“Good girl.” He turns the unit back on and it’s a _most_ delicious reward for good behavior.

His voice sounds strangled, “I’m gonna fuck you now, Princess.” I thrust my hips into him and he grips onto them. “Fuck, I love that you’re so _eager_ for me to ravage you.”

I moan in reply, “ _Please,_ Sir.”

“What do you need, Princess?”

“I need you inside me, Sir.” I’m impressed with my ability to form sentences at this point.

He smirks in triumph, “Happy to oblige.” He begins to slowly push into me while my inne walls clench powerfully around his cock as he penetrates me. He growls, and when he’s about halfway in, he thrusts powerfully into me. “Fuck, Princess. _God,_ this feels good. Your pussy feels _so fucking good_.”

“Tell me more, please, Sir.”

“You want me to talk dirty, Princess?”

“God, yes!”

“Like how your cunt is practically sucking my cock?” I nod furiously, “Your warm, tight little cunt is squeezing me so hard it feels like a goddamn blowjob right now?”

I groan, “Yes… god, like that!”

“I can feel the walls of your slick, hot cunt clenching around me right now... My cock is in fucking _heaven_ … _I’m_ in fucking heaven… You’re my fucking _paradise_ , Princess.” It’s like his words are an extra level of pleasure for me, and I’m already groaning and begging for more.

“I’m gonna move now, Princess.” And he does... _Fuck,_ he does… I feel him thrusting in and out of me and the additional sensation of his cock pounding into me is blissfully overpowering. Before I realize it, an orgasm is ripping through me and I’m screaming in pleasure.

He slows down his thrusts, almost to a stop. The pleasure is still rolling through me, but I’m not sure what’s going on with Bellamy. I’m breathless, but attempt to speak anyway “Why… are you… slowing down?”

“Because, Princess, if I don’t, I’m going to come _so fucking hard_ way too fucking soon.”

I nod before crashing my forehead back into the mattress. I realize that I’m pulling painfully hard against the restraints, just like Bellamy predicted. I relax my arms while trying to maintain control over my pleasure. I feel like the orgasm just won’t stop, and it’s fucking _amazing_. Bellamy starts moving again, holding my hips still and gripping the flesh so hard he’ll leave bruises. God, I love the bruises he leaves on me during sex.

“I love watching your cunt swallow up my cock. The view I have up here is fucking priceless... I can watch as my cock spears your pussy, I feel every fucking thing… And your cunt, _fuck_ … your cunt… You’re so warm inside. And your walls are tight as fuck, but they feel soft and smooth and warm around me.”

Another orgasm is coiling in my abdomen and I'm about to lose it again. “Oh, _FUCK, Bell, I’m coming again!”_

“God, Clarke, fucking come for me! Do it!" And I feel myself fall apart completely. The pleasure is annihilating, and I can’t hold my legs up anymore.

I notice we are starting to use our actual names now. Sometimes when the pleasure gets really intense like this, we forget to call each other ‘Sir’ or ‘Princess’ anymore. Like, it feels so good, I can’t even pretend to be in scene anymore.

My body gives up and I’m completely lax. If it weren’t for Bellamy holding my hips steady, I would have fallen to the side by now. I can feel him thrusting into me, snapping his hips in a blissful motion and my mind just... stops. The waves of ecstasy continue to roll through me, and I can do nothing but _feel_. The world around me melts away, dissolves into nothing…

I could stay here forever...

* * *

 

I start to come to, and I’m not in the same position anymore. In fact, my arms are free and I’m lying on my side under the blankets. Bellamy is curled behind me, stroking my arms. I hear him murmuring things into my hair. I guess he knows that I’m not capable of comprehending anything, because the words I catch are just sweet nothings, _“So good, Clarke… Beautiful… Good girl… Sweet Princess…”_ I feel like my soul is surrounded by _Bellamy_ , curled up in the captivating timbre of his deep voice. The light in the room has changed, and I realize a significant amount of time must have passed, but I can’t bring myself to worry about it.

I take a deep breath before allowing myself to surrender to sleep…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew! 
> 
> KUDOS make me happy! So please leave them if you're enjoying this. 
> 
> As always, REVIEWS get my imagination going, and imagination is key to making kink fun :-)
> 
> Does anyone have a favorite line or something they particularly liked? Let me know!


	18. lotus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bellamy + Clark = "feels" + "Sex" + "more feels"
> 
> We delve into Bellamy's past and current struggles with who he is, and how it has affected his relationship with Clarke over the years. 
> 
> This picks up where Ch. 17 left off, told from Bellamy's POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for the kudos & feedback. They really are like fuel ~ they motivate me to get new chapters out quickly! So keep them coming :-)
> 
> *trigger warning* Bell and Clarke have a talk that references their recent explorations into erotic pain and rough sex.

**Bellamy POV**

Every time I think I can’t be surprised, Clarke outdoes herself.

She took to the flogger like a natural. It’s something I suspected – Clarke being a masochist – but I didn’t want to get my hopes up. She wanted to keep going, but I was afraid to take it too far. It freaked me out a little when she checked out on me. Maybe she’s right, she just got caught up in the motions, but she seems _very_ susceptible to subspace, and I know better than to put either of us into a situation where we could cross a line we couldn’t un-cross. Setting up a check-in system is something I should have done before now…

I’m about to blow my load inside of her, and she goes limp. She’s moaning and groaning, responding obscenely to everything I’m doing to her body. The rhythmic pulsing around my cock is incredible. When I snap my hips into her a certain way, she gives out a gratified cry and urges me to keep going. Her noises are really what send me over the edge. The guttural moans, the full-body gasps, the way she can’t hold back her cries… After I come inside of her, the TENS unit is still pulsing and threatening to get me hard again.

I call out to Clarke, “Give me your word, Princess.” Nothing. I repeat the request, “Clarke, give me your word.” Again, no response except for the pleasured moans she’s been giving out this whole time. I pull out and turn off the TENS unit. I crawl around her to get to her fingers and give the two squeezes, but she’s not squeezing back. I’ve heard that it’s possible, but I’ve never had a sub actually hit subspace without pain, but here she is… I was right when I said she was highly susceptible. I just thought it would be after a mild beating or something.

I get off the bed so I can walk to the side and unbuckle her wrists and help her into a side-lying position. Her eyes are closed and she looks high as a damn kite. And she’s fucking _beautiful_. The peace that has overcome her face is hypnotic, and I can’t help but want to be there with her.

I bend down to gently stroke her hair out of her face, softly speaking to her, “Hey there Princess.” She opens her eyes, dazed and barely focused when she smiles and answers sleepily, “Hey Bell.” She closes her eyes again. She’s got a sheen of sweat drying on her body, so she’s already shivering. I pick her up bridal-style and reposition her so I can cover her with blankets. She’s talking to me softly, but it’s all nonsensical.

She has her eyes closed when she asks me, “Bell, have you ever wanted to fly like a bird?”

“I haven’t really thought about that.”

“Me either… But it’s really… nice… flying.”

I feel a smile on my face, “You flying, Clarke?”

She nods her head, “Yeah, Bell, I’m flying…” She smiles and takes a deep breath. “Birdie…”

This is where aftercare comes into play. Her body has been flooded with natural chemicals released by her nervous system. She’s experiencing an actual ‘high’ right now, and it’s my job to help her come down from it gradually. I move everything off the bed and crawl in behind her. I pull her into a spooning position so I can talk in her ear softly without smothering her. I take the opportunity to caress her, give small massages all over her body. Maintaining contact is important for her right now. It was touch that took her up, and touch is what will help her come down gently and safely. I keep talking to her and just gives me a bunch of ‘hmmm’s’ and head nods.

I turn her body around so she’s facing me again. I keep my voice gentle as I tell her how good she is, how happy she makes me, how she’s so beautiful. She smiles when I place gentle kisses on her forehead, her eyelids, her cheeks, her nose. When I kiss her lips, she responds with surprising enthusiasm and moves to deepen the kiss. I feel a little strange making out with her when she’s in this headspace, but the last thing she needs to feel is rejected right now. She pulls me on top of her, but I can’t bring myself to have sex with her like this. She’s completely out of it. I doubt she’ll remember anything, and I feel like I wouldn’t truly have her permission. It’s not something we’ve talked about before, so in my mind, consent isn’t truly there. So I keep kissing her, meeting her passion and intensity, but not making moves to enter her, despite her attempts to _make_ me…

I forget that it’s great to just make out with her. Kissing Clarke is a spiritual experience of its own. She pulls me in and I feel like my soul is just _hers_. Physically, it’s fantastic – The mechanics between us are well-practiced and we complement each other perfectly. The way she uses her fingers – gently caressing my face, my neck, my torso – she does it with a perfection that is unique to her. She knows just how to draw me in so that I forget the world around us. Sometimes it’s gentle, sometimes it’s desperate, but the passion is always _there_.

I don’t know how long we’ve been at it, but eventually we simmer down and go back to holding each other. If someone told me six months ago that I’d be cuddling with Clarke Griffin, I’d tell them to get their head checked. It’s not because I didn’t think I’d see her again. Well, that would be part of it, but more shocking would be the fact that she let someone hold her who wasn’t Alex… Alex was the single person who was allowed to cuddle with Clarke, and with those two it was so natural. Observing just the two of them, I would never guess that Clarke hated to be touched. Well, I guess the more accurate statement would be that she wouldn’t allow herself to _like_ to be touched. Now, she welcomes physical affection with me, even initiating it herself half the time. Knowing her past aversion to physicality, I will never take her warmth for granted. I doubt I’ll ever get enough of touching Clarke.

* * *

Part of me wants to go back in time ten years and punch me for being such a fucking idiot that night in the parking garage. I had no idea what I was passing up. But I remind myself that _this_ , what we have _now_ , would not have been possible when we were in our early twenties. We had to get through our own shit before we were ready for this. I know it was the right thing to do. I wouldn’t have been able to give Clarke what she really needed. She honestly could have been seriously harmed.

I went through a period, about five years ago, where I was _far_ too confident as a Dominant, and it put my subs (I had two at the time, they were non-exclusive arrangements) in harm’s way. I would get into “Dom-Space” where I felt like a GOD. My subs would fall into subspace and the combination was dangerous. It’s a recipe for disaster – she wasn’t coherent enough to call her safeword, and I wasn’t able to pay attention to warning signs. Nobody was permanently injured, but the realization that I was, in fact, completely out of control shook me to my core.

Because of that, I stepped away from the lifestyle for over a year. I fell in love with Clarke. Truthfully, that was not the first time I had fallen in love with her. One might argue that I had been _hers_ since freshman year of college, even when she still hated me. When we were 24, she came out and told me she was in love with me. She couldn’t have picked a worse time. I had only recently begun to understand some of the darker sides of my sexual proclivities, and there was absolutely no way I would be able to explain them to Clarke without driving her away. It would have disgusted her. I knew I had sadistic preferences with sex, and I couldn’t bear the idea of hurting her. I never considered that she might be a masochist…

So, as I was saying, in 2010 I had walked away from the lifestyle, and for Clarke I would have never looked back. Every fucking day I wanted to tell her that I needed her; that I was broken without her, but I couldn’t. I had burned that bridge already, and Clarke gave no indication that she would ever entertain the idea. I knew I had lost my chance with her and resigned myself to that fact. I couldn’t add to the shit that was already piled on her plate. Alex must have been about two years old and Clarke was going through some shit with the court system, as well as facing issues with Lexa. I never was quite sure what their relationship actually was. I know Clarke identifies as a bisexual and Lexa is lesbian. People made assumptions that they were together, but we don’t actually know the truth, and I never asked.

* * *

Clarke stirring again next to me snaps me out of my walk down memory lane. She has stirred a few times already, usually just to turn to sleep on her other side or her stomach, but this time she sounds coherent.

“Bellamy?”

“Hey, Princess.”

She looks around, “What time is it?”

I reach for my phone, since my watch is nowhere to be found. “It’s just after ten.”

She frowns, “How long was I out?”

“Probably about three hours.”

Then she looks up at me, “Have you been awake this whole time?”

I nod, “Yeah, I didn’t realize it was this late.”

“Why were you still awake?”

I cup her cheek, “I wanted to make sure you were okay. You were pretty out of it at the end there.”

She nods, thinking about it. “The last thing I remember, I had was on my like, fourth orgasm. But I lost count. I just felt like I was… dreaming?”

“You were in subspace, Clarke.”

“So that’s really a thing?”

I chuckle, “Yeah, it’s really a thing. Not everyone can get there.”

She just nods.

“I’ve actually never seen someone reach it from pleasure alone. In my experience, a sub has only gotten there during an intense punishment scene. But, they were hardcore masochists who rarely got off on anything _but_ pain.”

Clarke frowns a little, “I wouldn’t say that I absolutely need it. But taking pain… it makes it all a completely different experience.”

This is a good chance to debrief with her. “What are your feelings about your flogging earlier?”

The corners of her mouth twitch into a small smile, “The first thing that comes to mind is that I wish I had been tied up.”

My cock twitches. I did _not_ expect to hear that… Did she really just say that she wished I had tied her up before beating her? She looks up at me with a raised eyebrow. _Fuck… she definitely felt me getting hard…_

I clear my throat and shake my head to compose myself, because when she says shit like that, I get light-headed. “Alright, tell me, why do you wish you had been tied up?”

Now she actually smiles, “Because I just wanted to be able to _let go,_ and _experience_ it. But I had to pay attention to not falling over, you know?”

“So it was something you enjoyed?”

“YES.” Then she looks a little sheepish. “Okay, I answered that really quickly.”

I laugh, “And enthusiastically.”

She twists her mouth to the side, “How fucked up is that?”

“What?”

“Like, how much I liked it?”

“It’s not fucked up. Like I've said before, it’s a preference… Describe what you were feeling.”

She pauses for a few moments. “Well… So, okay, I didn’t immediately enjoy it. It was starting to sting a lot, so at first I was like, ‘ _uh, hell no, I’m gonna call this._ ’ My knee-jerk reaction was to make the pain stop. But, I wanted to give it a fair shot, so instead I focused on just _feeling_ it. I told myself, _‘Clarke, it’s okay to like this, so figure out if you really do_.’ So, I thought about what was possible to feel underneath the physical pain.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Okay, so I feel like there are _levels_ of sensation for me… Like, I was seeing a building composed of perceptions. But it’s not a tall building. Instead, it looks like a one-story building, but there are several sub-basements that go deeper and deeper.”

Her visualizations are interesting, and kind of out of left-field, but the way she is describing it makes more sense than descriptions from other masochists I’ve spoken with. “Go on.”

“Okay, so the physical pain, the sting of the lash is the first level. But I can take the elevator, and go to the first sub-basement. And the sting transforms into something else that is too hard to describe. Then I take the next elevator to the next sub-basement. On that level, I start to taste _something_ different on my tongue. Salty, like tears, but sweet, too. Then I can take the elevator to the next level below that, and I can feel my heart pumping something _pleasant_ through my arteries and veins… And the thing is, each level was adding onto the one before, so it wasn’t like one sensation was gone just because I moved to another level. I could still feel the sting, but I could feel more… I didn’t get through to the next level yet because you didn’t want me to go too hard.”

I must be staring at her wrong, because she frowns and asks, “What?”

I shake my head, “No, nothing. I’ve just never heard it described that way.” I crack a smile, “I kind of wish I hadn’t stopped you.”

“No, it’s good you did.” She wiggles a little bit. “Yeah, my ass is a little raw.” We both laugh at that.

“I was surprised that you hadn’t told me to stop. Eventually I had to just exercise veto power…”

“Yeah, I was surprised too. Like I said, my impulse reaction was to tell you to stop. But once I got into it, I was _really_ into it.”

“Yeah, you were fucking dripping, Clarke.”

She looks thoughtful, and then laughs. “Fuck... Yeah, I really was.”

After a minute of silence, she asks, “So what does that mean?”

“What does _what_ mean?”

“That being whipped makes me wet.”

“You might be a masochist, Clarke.” I squeeze my arms around her and kiss the top of her head. “You find pleasure within pain. That’s the definition of a masochist.”

“Hmmm.” Then she’s just quiet for a little while.

I break the silence, “Pulling your hair is a huge fucking turn-on for me.”

She smiles while turning around in my arms to face me, “ _Yeah_ , it gets me pretty turned on, too.”

I laugh at that. “I’ll be honest, I’ve never been a fan of _receiving_ pain, but I’ve been learning new things with you. When you scratch the fuck out of me, pull my hair, bite my lip? I feel invigorated, which has never been my reaction to that shit in the past. I always felt pleasure from giving pain to willing masochists, but never really was a fan of being on the receiving end of it.”

“Well, I hated giving blowjobs before you…” I laugh out loud at that. I’m fully aware of the fact that Alex _exists_ because Clarke didn’t want to give a blowjob that night at the bar. “My point _is_ I’ve learned a lot of new things with you. And there’s more I want to investigate.”

I have to chuckle at her word choice, “Investigate? Spoken like a scientist.” I press a kiss her temple.

She laughs with me, “Yeah, investigate... Asshole.” She’s grinning at me.

“Okay. What kind of things do you want to investigate?”

“I want to find my pain threshold.”

I can feel the wicked smirk on my face. “I’m more than happy to help you with that, but it has to happen slowly. If you were experienced, I’d go ahead and beat you until you begged me to stop, but that wouldn’t be taking care of you.” She furrows her brows but nods her head in agreement.   I continue, “Okay, so you know you like having your hair pulled, you liked the flogging.   What other things have you liked?”

She closes her eyes, and I _really_ want to be in her mind right now. I want to know what she’s seeing. “Okay, so you know those times we’re in the shower and you’ll sometimes, like, _shove_ me into the wall – I like that a lot.”

“What did you like about it?”

She laughs, “I kind of liked being manhandled… Like, I felt small, but in a good way.” I let her think some more. “I like the suddenness of it – the impact is shocking, and it puts me right in the moment. For me, the shower, with all the running water and the noise, it’s almost like sensory overload. Add to that the fact that I’m usually still coming down from at least one previous orgasm, and my head is just off in dreamland, you know?” I nod. “But when you slam me into the wall, I’m brought back to the moment, back to you, and I’m suddenly very aware of every sensation. I’m able to block out noise from the shower, which dulls my other senses. My awareness of the physical things you do to me is heightened.” She pauses again, then shoots me a devious smirk. “Then, when you start fucking me against the shower wall… it feels so _erotic_. I can feel _everything_. I can feel _you_. And I want even more.”

“I’m in full support of anything that leaves you wanting more of me…” I smirk at her.  

She rolls her eyes, but looks like she has more to say, so I wait for her to continue. “I wanted more of your roughness. I liked the feeling of being _taken_ and overpowered by _you_.”  

“Me too. What else?”

“Well, when you pinch me places, it’s like a sensory shock. The pain is almost purifying. Like, I feel that pain, and it cleanses the palate. The same way I was talking about the wall – It brings me into the moment. I can _only_ feel what’s happening right at that exact instant. And it feels _good_ , and I want more.”

I feel a thrill in my chest when she says this. A thousand different ideas flood my mind, but I have to tread carefully. “You want more of what, exactly?”

“ _Everything_. I want everything you can give.”

(Of course she would say something like that). I rub my hand over my face, “That’ll take time. I’m not throwing everything at you. You’re not ready for that. I’m not ready for that. I’m not ready to do those things to you.”

She nods, “So we’ll keep adding things, little by little. How do we do that? Without ruining the mood.”

“The same way we did it tonight. We negotiate the scene. If we need to ‘ruin the mood’ to do so, then fine. We haven’t had a problem getting ‘back in the mood’ yet.”

She’s nodding her head, “So, we decide ahead of time what to do?”

“Yes. And renegotiation is _not_ optional when we’re adding a new activity or action. It’s important to me that consent is established every step of the way.”

“Okay. I appreciate that.” We fall into a comfortable silence for a while, I’m just caressing her back while her head is tucked under my chin.

“Bellamy, what do you mean when you say you’re ‘not ready to do those things’ to me? What things?”

I have to take a deep breath. “I’m not ready to give you heavy pain, Clarke. Just because I’m sadistic doesn’t mean I dole out punishments and heavy pain easily.”  

She lifts her head up to look at me. “What if I want it one day?”

“When that day comes, I’ll give you what you want. But not before.”

She nods and curls back into me. “Okay… Bellamy?” (She’s just a fountain of questions right now)

“Clarke?”

“Can you explain to me how you are ‘sadistic?’” She looks up at me again. “Because you’re one of the most genuinely kind and loving people I know.”

“Give me a minute to compose _how_ I need to explain this.”

She nods her head and gives me time to think about it. As hard as I try, I really can’t find a good way to describe it...

“Okay... I really don’t know how to tell you something like this without scaring the shit out of you.”

“How about you give me the benefit of the doubt.”

“How do I explain something that, even after fifteen years, I am still coming to terms with? Something that sometimes makes me feel like I’m broken if I think about it too much?”

She furrows her brows. “I’m not going to judge you, Bellamy. You know that, right?” She holds my gaze.  

I nod at her. As hard as it is, I have to look her in the eye when I tell her. “Clarke, it’s really fucked up…”

“Bellamy…” She sighs.

“It means that I get sensual – no, sexual – _pleasure_ out of causing someone pain.”

She shrugs her shoulders. “Okay.”

“What do you mean, ‘okay?’ I just told you I get off on causing pain.”

“I know.” She looks unaffected, and I’m not sure if it’s because she’s effectively hiding her disgust, or if she understands more about me than I do. She continues, “Do you like to think about hurting children or innocents?”

“God, no.”

“Do you have a desire to torture random people?”

“No.”

“Would you hurt anyone who didn’t explicitly ask for it?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Then I don’t see the problem. It doesn’t make you fucked up, Bellamy…”

My voice is a cracked whisper, “How is it _not_ fucked up, Clarke? I like to hurt people. I’m a monster.”

“You told me that _I’m_ not fucked up for _wanting_ pain. By that logic, it isn’t fair to malign yourself for wanting to provide it to someone who wants it, or who needs it... And if you really believe that you are a broken person for it, what are you saying about me?” Her unwavering eye contact is simultaneously comforting and unnerving.

I don’t really know what to say to her. I don’t know why it’s so hard to believe that she’s okay with this. I told her during our first negotiation that I was a sadist, but I was _detached_ when I said it. It was kind of routine to put it out there when describing myself – I’m known in our BDSM community as a sadist. It’s accepted and welcomed. I disclosed it to Clarke the same way I would to any prospective play partner. She didn’t seem bothered by it at the time, but a large part of me believed she was just putting on a brave face. The people who accepted what I am were people I ‘played’ with – self-declared masochists who sought me out _because_ I was a sadist. Their approval and acceptance didn’t matter to me. The fact that they sought me out implied their acceptance and approval. None of them were Clarke. And _that’s_ what’s different.

Her gaze sucks me in, and I know she understands. She gets it. She gets _me._ “I love you, Clarke. Like, I really fucking love you.” The words just kind of fall out of my mouth before I can stop them. Not that I would really want to, but I wanted to make it more special or something.  We've been together for a few months at this point, the words are long overdue.  We know, we've known for a long time this unspoken truth, but until now, I hadn't verbalized the feelings that were overwhelming me.

She just smiles and brings her hand to my cheek. “I know.” She pulls her head up to mine and lays a gentle kiss on my lips. “And Bellamy, I really fucking love you, too. All of you.”

Somehow, in this world where so many things are beyond fucked, I’ve found this person, _my_ person. She is not only _okay_ with what I am, she loves me for it. She may even need me for it.

* * *

I pull her on top of my chest, cradling her face as she looks down at me. “You love me?”

Clarke smiles, “I never stopped.” Her blue eyes are breathtaking as they bore into mine.

I pull her face down so I can kiss her properly and she takes the opportunity to straddle me.

Clarke kisses my nose, “Bell, let’s have ‘I love you’ sex.”  

I smile at her, “Is that different from other sex?”

She rolls her eyes, “Yes, it’s the sex we have right after we say ‘I love you.’”

“I didn’t know ‘I love you sex’ was a thing.”

She laughs at me, “What, you haven’t had ‘I love you sex’ before?” When I don’t respond, she looks down and holds my gaze. “You haven’t.”

I rub my hands up and down her arms. “I never really loved anyone else, Clarke. Not like this.”

Her eyes are bright with tears, piercing into my soul, and she nods, “Then that means I get to be your first.”

I sit up to meet her for a slow, passionate kiss. She cards her fingers through my hair while I wrap my arms around her, pulling her as close to me as possible. I lift her off of me briefly to change position. She waits patiently( _ish_ ) while I settle myself into a cross-legged position. I considered getting into an actual lotus yoga pose, but decided it was too much hassle. I pull her back into my lap, positioning myself to meet her entrance. She doesn’t break eye contact as she sinks down on me while I wrap her legs around my back so she can lock her ankles together behind me, mirroring her arms around my neck.  

I have purposely never had sex in this position because of the sheer level of intimacy shared between partners. Clarke is the one and only person I will take in this pose, the Lotus pose. We are eye-to-eye, sharing calm, deep breaths. When she inhales, I exhale. She exhales, I inhale. We share everything this way. I hold my hands on her hips to guide her movements, rolling her pelvis back and forth experimentally while we figure out what feels the best. We develop a rhythm and I move my arms to wrap around her lower back, anchoring us to each other. I mirror her movements – as she breathes in, she rocks her pelvis backward, tightening her inner walls around me while I breathe out. Then as she exhales, I inhale while she rocks her pelvis forward again.  

This isn’t a position for thrusting. “Rough” isn’t possible here. I can’t take her ‘hard and fast’ like this. This is a position of equality and intimacy. We rock each other slowly, back and forth in waves of indulgence.  Neither of us is capable of keeping this PG-13, though.  Clarke thrives on dirty talk, and now, so do I. The eye contact is intense, and when we start saying dirty things to each other, the effect is overwhelming.

In between gasps, Clarke is moaning, “Oh, god, Bellamy that’s it.”

I’m panting back, “Fuck, Clarke. You feel so goddamn good.”

She whimpers, “ _Tell me,_ Bell. Keep telling me things.”

“Dirty things, Clarke?”

“ _Fuck_ , yes, filthy things, Bellamy.”

“Fuck, your pussy is so fucking tight and smooth around my cock… And when you rock your hips back… _damn… like that_ , you clench your cunt around my cock and it’s fucking glorious...”

She’s moaning, clenching herself even harder around me. “You fill me up so goddamn good, Bell. I love when you’re stretching me out like this.”

“It’s amazing, feeling you stretched out around me, your cunt stretched tight around my cock…

“Your huge cock, your huge fucking cock”

“Fuck, Princess… _fuck…”_

She maintains the steady rocking motions, but her voice is trembling, “Bellamy… _touch me_.”

Now would be a nice time to have more than two arms… “ _Where_ to you want me to touch you?”

“My clit, Bell, touch my clit. I wanna come.”

I oblige, gently rubbing her engorged bundle of nerves with my thumb in pace with our rocking. I feel her walls fluttering around me, which is still, hands down, one of the most incredible things I have ever felt. “Come on, Clarke, _let go…_ ” She throws her head back and I see her eyes close. With my free hand, I cup the back of her head to lift it up again. “Open your eyes, Clarke. Give me your eyes…” She lifts her head up for me and opens her eyes. Time stands still while I am swallowed into their depths – of passion, of beauty, of love. I realize now that the love has _always_ been there.

The strength of our shared gaze is earth-shattering, almost painful. “Oh my god, Bellamy, _please!”_ She squeezes her eyes closed, as if the intensity of our gaze is too painful.

“What do you need, Clarke?”

“You, I need _you_ , Bell. I need you to come with me.”

I tighten my grip on the back of her neck, guiding her head back up straight. “Give me your eyes, Clarke. Open up. Give me YOU, Clarke…”

She opens her eyes again and tears flood them, and when I feel her thumb come up to brush at my cheek, I realize my eyes are wet with tears as well. She nods furiously, biting her lip, “I’m yours, Bellamy. I am yours, and you are mine.” She pulls me into a bruising kiss as our rocking picks up pace. She breaks the kiss and crushes my forehead into hers, “Say it, Bellamy–”

I nod back as I meet her lips in passion, only breaking the kiss to repeat like a prayer, “I'm yours, Clarke. You're mine.” I feel her nearing the edge – the fluttering of her walls strengthens, our kisses become frantic. I tilt my hips slightly and hit a new angle, making her _scream_ as she falls over the edge, pulling me with her as we climax together. Every pulse of her cunt milks my cock as I empty myself completely into her. I wrap my arms back around her tightly, dropping my forehead to her collarbone while I feel her breath on my neck and shoulder. I feel her fingers caress up and down my back as we melt back into each other.

We stay like this for a while – I’m still inside Clarke, our heaving chests calming as our breathing returns to a normal pace. The sheen of sweat on our bodies is drying, leaving a chill in its wake. I feel Clarke kiss the side of my neck. I press open mouth kisses along her collarbone, dipping my tongue into the hollow of her throat (the suprasternal notch – another random piece of anatomical knowledge, courtesy of Clarke Griffin’s anatomy studies). Her fingers are threaded through my hair. She tugs lightly and I look up at her. She’s smiling, and she’s Clarke, and she’s _goddamn beautiful_. I can’t take my eyes off of her.

Her voice is raspy, “Hi…”

I crack a smile at her as I rub small circles into her back with my thumbs. “Hi, yourself…”

“I fucking love you. Like so fucking much, Bell.”

“I fucking love you, too, Clarke.” 

* * *

She kisses me again, chastely. “When we come up with a nickname for our daughter, it _cannot_ be Princess.”

I laugh, “Agreed, the implications of that moniker are _far_ too dirty, _Princess_.”

She smiles against my lips, then freezes. “The fuck? …did I just talk about our future children?”

I pull my head back so I can see her better. “Yeah… Yeah, you did.”

She looks unsure, like she’s gauging my reaction. “Is it weird that it felt normal to talk about kids just now?”

I shrug my shoulders, “Maybe it’s weird... But it doesn’t feel wrong.”

She smiles again, arms wrapped around my neck. “Can we cross that bridge when we come to it?”  

I nod, “Yeah, that sounds like a good plan.” I lay back, and Clarke rolls off to my side so I can uncross and stretch out my legs. I pull her arm around my waist so she can lay her head on my chest. I trail my fingers lightly along her spine. “For the record, Clarke, if you want kids, I want kids.”

She nods her head and kisses my chest, then rests her chin on it. “It’s something to think about, Bellamy. Given the complications toward the end of my pregnancy with Alex, I automatically worry about whether my body is safe for another baby, you know?

I nod my head, “I get what you’re saying, but those weren’t your fault, Clarke. Please don’t do that to yourself.”

She lays her head back down, “I know. Either way, I’ve got another three years before this IUD expires. We’ve got time.” I kiss the top of her head.

“We need to get some sleep. We have to pick Alex up early from Nate and Jane. Remember, we’re taking her to Lakeside tomorrow.”

“You mean tetanus-fest? God, Bellamy I can’t believe you convinced me to go with you guys. I also can’t believe they call that place an amusement park… It’s terrifying, and not in a “haunted house” way. More of a legitimate, “you might actually fucking die here from a disease you'll contract here” way…” We share a laugh at the dilapidated theme park where Alex has coerced us into taking her. “You are up-to-date on your vaccines, right?”

“Vaccines? _Vaccines_ makes us sound like livestock. Aren’t they called ‘immunizations’ now?”

“The terms are interchangeable. Though I agree, “vaccine” does remind me of the vet’s office.”

“To answer your question, yes, of course I’m all up to date. Don’t be a killjoy. Your daughter is excited about this.”

“That’s _your_ fault, Bellamy! You’re the one who had to tell her about all the fun summers you and O had there growing up.” She’s poking my chest with her finger.

“Hey, Octavia grew up just fine. And she only ate a little bit of the lead paint off the ancient roller coaster.”

“Lead paint?!”

“I’m kidding, Clarke.” I pause for a second. “I think I’m kidding…”

She smacks her hand on my chest, “Go the fuck to sleep, Bell.”

“I love you, Clarke.”

“I love you, too, Bellamy.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We had a bit of a time jump between Chapters 16 and 17. I felt like we needed to move ahead a bit in time. 
> 
> We got a glimpse of 'aftercare' (a very important part of BDSM post-scene processes). I can't stress enough how important it is for a Dom to take care of their sub post-play, and Bellamy is a superb Dom... 
> 
> Please, REVIEWS and KUDOS keep this all coming :-) 
> 
> Next chapter: Clarke + Alex + Bellamy = cute as fuck.


	19. Lakeside (Part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex and Bellamy have a talk. Cuteness ensues. 
> 
> Later, Clarke and Bellamy do a little teasing...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 1 of 2

**Clarke POV:**

Bellamy and I are on our way to pick Alex up from Nate’s. Bellamy is driving, because apparently he is not a fan of my road rage… I don’t protest – I really hate driving, so if he wants to assume that task, he’s welcome to it… We sit in comfortable silence, as we lace our fingers together like a corny cliché.  

“Is Alex _really_ okay with everything? With me?”

I furrow my brows, “Yeah, she is. Why do you ask?”

“I don’t know, she never really seemed to have a problem. It seems almost too good to be true – I come back into your life after being gone for over two years, then she just welcomes me back in, no questions asked?”

“Well, what _were_ you expecting?”

He laughs, “I don’t know, maybe the Spanish Inquisition or something? I mean, she’s seven. A lot of kids her age don’t exactly warm up quickly to their parents’ significant others.”

“What seven-year olds do you know?”

“I remember Octavia and myself – we were really protective. When mom would go out on dates, I was a total asshole to them.”

“So you think that you deserve to be treated the way you treated them?”

He shrugs, “I don’t know. It’s just not what I expected.”

I turn to face him, “Well, do you remember _why_ you felt so protective of your mom?”

“Because, she’d been fucked over already. Dad left us high and dry – no child support, nothing. She had to work two jobs just to keep a roof over our heads. Once I was old enough, I got my own job to try and pitch in. It was tough.”

I nod, “See, there’s a huge difference in circumstances. _Huge_. For starters, Nate is still very much in her life. She never witnessed him treating me poorly, because he never did. She didn’t have to deal with the emotional fallout of her father ditching her mother because she never knew us together. She doesn’t have a younger sibling to protect. She hasn’t had to make the sacrifices you made, Bellamy.”

He furrows his brows, “That’s true. You’re a great mom, Clarke. You both have done a good job with her.”

I shoot him a smile, “I know.” I continue, “You know, your mom did the best she could given her circumstances. The circumstances of my single-motherhood are vastly different from hers. I happened to get the chance to go to medical school, obtain an education that enables to make enough money to avoid putting financial stress on Alex. Alex and I are both fortunate like that. Your mom didn’t have those advantages, but she still managed to raise you and O, and you are both wonderful people.”

He nods quietly. “You’ve done well, Clarke. I don’t think advantageous circumstances were the only thing.”

“How do you mean?”

“You could have easily made things very difficult for Alex. There are plenty of kids whose parents are split up, who still have both parents in their lives, and things are still very difficult for them. Those kids bear the burdens of their parents pride and jealousy. They suffer because mom and dad can’t get along or put their kids first.”

I nod, “That’s true. I remember, shit with Nate and I was heading strongly that direction. That’s as much my fault as his. But, we got our heads on straight. Alex comes first, and thank god both of us figured that out before seriously damaging Alex.”

Bellamy holds my hand, brushing his thumb over my knuckles, “That’s the thing – you guys have gone beyond just ‘avoiding damage’ to Alex. You both have made your situation into something that’s positive and beneficial to her.”

He’s right, and it’s easy to forget the good I’ve done underneath the self-loathing I feel for working so much. “Thank you for saying that, Bell. It means a lot.” I clear my throat and shake my head before the tears behind my eyes actually fall.

He brings my hand up to kiss it. “It’s the truth. And maybe why Alex is so accepting of new people.”

I choke out a laugh, “Oh, it wasn’t always this way.”

He raises his eyebrows, but still keeps his eye on the road. “Oh? Is there a story here?”

I nod, “Oh yeah. Let’s just say Alex was less than welcoming of Jane’s presence in Nate’s life… She was almost hostile. She straight up told Jane that she ‘wasn’t looking for a new mom, so don’t even try.’”

Bellamy chuckles, “Well, she doesn’t mince words.”

“Nate and I had a talk with her. Actually, several talks. We helped her to understand that it was perfectly okay to like Jane. She was worried that it would hurt _my_ feelings. I explained to her the truth – Jane is a blessing. She’s not ‘competition’ for me. She makes daddy happy, and that’s what mommy and daddy want for each other – for everyone to be happy and safe. Once she realized and accepted that Nate and I would never be _together_ , things fell into place pretty easily.”

He smiles again, “That makes sense. So is that why Nate hasn’t given me grief?”

“That’s not the only reason. He knows you’re a good guy who won’t hurt Alex. If he thought for a second that you would be a detriment, he’d be on you like white on rice.”

We both share a laugh at that. “He’s a good guy. I have a lot of respect for him. A lot of people would have thrown in the towel early on, but it sounds like he’s been there for Alex in a big way.”

I have a big smile. “I’m happy you feel that way. Really, Bellamy. It makes things so much easier+ to not have to worry about appeasing a jealous boyfriend who can’t handle the fact that baby-daddy and I are friends.”

He smirks, “Yeah, well, I am pretty awesome like that.”

I squeeze his hand. “Yeah you are.”

As we pull up to Nate’s house, I am again overwhelmed by how lucky I am to have Bellamy in my life. We went through hell and back to get where we are, and I know we’re stronger for it.

* * *

**Bellamy POV**

Nate answers the door and I can see Alex bounding down the hall toward us, yelling at the top of her lungs, (but somehow still managing to sound sing-song) “We’re going to Lakeside! We’re going to Lakeside!” She completely bypasses Clarke and flies into me, wrapping her arms around my waist. I hug her back with enthusiasm, but I’m suddenly worried that I’ve overstepped my bounds. I look up toward Nate, anticipating a defensive glare or something of the sort, but he’s not even looking at me. He’s gazing affectionately at his daughter without a hint of jealousy.

Clarke gives Jane a hug and I hear them chatting, then giggling about something. Nate gives me a firm but friendly handshake and we start to make small talk. We’re all interrupted by Alex clearing her throat, “Ahem, people! The theme park awaits!” She starts heading to the car and we say our goodbyes.

* * *

This is the beat-up amusement park where Octavia and I used to come in the summertime. It’s the kind of establishment that’s delightfully terrifying. The rides are ancient, the maintenance is questionable, and the food there might be poisonous. It’s the kind of place where you should make sure to get your tetanus shot before visiting. Alex has been begging to go for weeks, and Clarke agreed to come with us, so long as she wouldn’t be forced to ride the spinning rides. This basically meant she would ride _none_ of the rides, since they were all pretty ‘spinny.” Honestly, neither of us is there for the rides.

The enchanted look on Alex’s face when we walk into this (nightmare of a) theme park is priceless. All the bright lights and glitter mask the derelict and rusted frames of attractions long past their prime. She looks like she’s walking into some magical land. Alex has almost zero physical similarities to Octavia – Octavia’s diamond-shaped face was (and still is) adorned with green eyes and sharp angles, framed by dark strands of straight hair; Alex’s square-shaped face is accented with sky blue eyes, and soft bouncy blonde curls. Despite their dissimilar appearances, when I see the glimmer of delight in Alex’s eyes, I am immediately reminded of my summers with Octavia. The joy that would illuminate her innocent face when crossing the threshold into this enchanted land is forever etched in some of my favorite memories.

Alex immediately spots a ride for us to try. Clarke opts to watch us from the gate. It’s called “The Spider,” and it’s one of those rides where pairs of riders load into the seats, one compartment at a time. The ride doesn’t start until everyone is all loaded in, then we all spin into nauseating oblivion. Alex and I are the first pair of riders seated, so it gives us about ten minutes of time to chat. Alex uses the time to go ahead and grill me.

“So… You and mom...”

I nod with a smile on my face. “What about us?”

She twists her mouth to the side, “You’re the first boyfriend of hers that I have actually met.”

“Really?” I don’t know why this surprises me, given how protective Clarke is of Alex.

She nods, “Really.” Then she gives me a ‘hard stare’ as she warns me, “Don’t fuck up. I haven’t seen her happy like this in a long time.”

“She makes me happy, too, kiddo.”

She amends her statement, “Actually, I have _never_ seen her happy like this.”

I nod, not really knowing what to say. “Well, it’s the happiest I’ve ever been, too.” She keeps giving me this glare that is honestly intimidating. I don’t know how someone nearly two feet shorter than me can make me feel so damn _small_.

“Are you going to marry her?”

My response is immediate. I don’t even have to think about it. “Yes.”

This time her nod is approving. I can tell she’s fighting a smile, but won’t give in just yet. “When?”

“It’ll be awhile, Alex. She’s not going to run down the aisle to me next week. It’ll take some convincing.”

“Probably not as much as you think.”

I can’t fight the lop-sided smile on my face, “Is that right?”

She nods confidently, “It is. I’m right a lot of the time. You should remember that.”

I laugh at her statement, and she shoots me another glare. I put my hands up in a placating manner, “Hey, I’m not disagreeing with you… You’re just so young. It’s easy to forget that sometimes… You’re wise beyond your years.”

She seems satisfied with that answer and nods her head in agreement. She has a mischievous smile on her face, and I’m reminded of Octavia when she’s on a mission.

“Whatever you’re thinking, Alex, _don’t._ ” She just casually shrugs her shoulders. “I’m serious. You know better than to think your mom can be influenced by either of us.”

She rolls her eyes, “I know. All I have to +9do is just _not_ get in your way. If mom asks about it or makes hints, I’ll give my approval, that’s all. I think you’re underestimating my power in this situation.”

I chuckle, “You’re right. And that’s not even addressing your ridiculous powers of _persuasion_. I know that you have veto power just by existing.”

She looks anxious again and she faces forward in her seat. She narrows her eyes and clenches her jaw as she focuses on something in the horizon. “Don’t use me.”

I turn in the seat to face her. I put my hands on her shoulder to get her to face me, and she looks me in the eye. “Alex, I will _never_ use you, or try to manipulate you. I promise you that.”

She searches my face, like the human lie detector she is, and then nods her head again in approval. “I believe you.”

“Good.”

She pauses. “And just so you know, I won’t manipulate you, either. I know that I could definitely use your _situation_ to manipulate you.”

I pull my head back, “What ‘situation,’ Alex?”

She smirks, “That you desperately want to marry my mom and you don’t want me to say anything.”

I roll my eyes with a laugh, “Oh yeah, _that_ one.”

She smiles again, “Don’t worry, I will only use my powers for good.” After a few minutes of silence, she pipes up again. “Bellamy?”

I nod my head at her, “Hmm?”

“Tell me a story about you and my mom before I was born.”

I feel a wide smile spread across my face now. “Where to start, kid? We knew each other for years before you were born.”

She giggles, “I know! So start at the beginning.”

I nod. “Well, it started in our first year of College. Actually, it begins earlier than your mom probably realizes.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, it was the week before classes started. I arrived to campus a week early. See, your mom and I both started college in the music program – she was a pianist. I didn’t play instruments, I was interested in studying the structure of music.” She looks at me, as if to encourage me to get to the punchline already. “I got a locker assigned to me, which was located on the 5th floor of the music school, right across from the practice rooms with the grand pianos.”

She has an adorable smile on her face, “Did the pianos sound really pretty?”

“One did. There was only one person practicing that day. Remember, classes hadn’t started yet. I couldn’t tell who it was, because they covered the window on the door with paper.”

“Why?”

“It was distracting when people went by the window, so a lot of times we covered the windows with paper in the practice rooms.”

She furrows her little brows, “That’s weird.”

“We’re talking about music students. ‘Weird’ comes with the territory.” She nods her head. “Anyway, I was putting things into my locker when I hear someone playing Chopin’s Ballade no. 1 in g-minor.” I look down at Alex, and she has an adorable smile on her face. She raises her eyebrows, prompting me to continue. “Chopin composed a lot of pieces for the piano. Some of them were kind of easy, but many of them were really hard, especially this one. Everyone I had ever heard try and play it just… sucked at it.”

“Did mom play Chopin?”

I tickle her side, “Shhh, I’m getting there. Don’t interrupt the story teller.”

She rolls her eyes and whispers, “Then get on with it!”

“So, someone is playing this piece that is known to be very challenging, but very beautiful. It is passionate, and complicated, and fast... And _big_.   Like I said, a lot of people screw it up when they try to play it. But not this person. I was completely mesmerized.”

“Was that all they played?”

“Nope. They played _Clair de Lune_ by Debussy, and a piece known as _Un Sospiro_ by Liszt.”

“So then what happened?”

“Well, this person played each piece a few times. I could tell they were pieces that were memorized and played often. And I could tell by the way they played that the pianist _loved_ these pieces. It was hypnotizing to listen to them…” I pause for a little bit, a bit lost in the memory, until Alex nudges me to go on. “I decided to stick around and get some reading done, because I really wanted to see who was playing in there.”

“It was mom, wasn’t it?”

I throw my hands up, “You just ruined the entire story.”

She laughs. “I did not. What happened next?”

I roll my eyes, “Well, she left the practice room in a huge hurry and flew down the stairs. I’m guessing she was late for something. I didn’t know who she was, but I saw her face, I remembered her voice, because she was talking to herself on the way down the stairs. And I remembered the long blonde hair.”

“So what happened next?”

“Well, a week went by and I was too busy to go back and listen any more. Classes started, and I found myself in class with the most infuriating, competitive, and annoyingly gorgeous girl. The girl from the practice rooms. Her name was Clarke Griffin, and she _hated_ me.”

Alex is shrieking with laughter. “Why did she hate you?”

“Probably because I gave her a nickname she didn’t appreciate.”

“What was it?”

“Princess.”

She scrunches her nose. “Why Princess?”

“Well, the first time I called her ‘princess,’ it was because she looked like a Disney princess – like sleeping beauty with the long blonde hair. And she was wearing t-shirt with a crown on it. So it fit. She thought I was making fun of her.”

“Were you?”

“No, not really. But I liked to see her get all riled up, and I found that calling her ‘Princess’ was the quickest way to make that happen.”

She looks at me quizzically, “Why did you like to get her riled up?”

“Because she was pretty… And it was how I got her to pay attention to me.”

“But you said she was mad at you!”

“So what?” I smirked, “She knew who I was.”

“So, how long until you fell in love?”

I shrug, “For me? Probably about six minutes. I never would have admitted that, though. I always told everyone how annoying she was.”

Alex laughs out loud again. “What about mom?”

“You’d have to ask her. We didn’t actually introduce ourselves to each other for at least another year. We would just sit in classes and fight with each other. Our verbal sparring was the highlight of my day. She made me care about things, though. To be able to hold a debate, I had to read and know my stuff, otherwise she would’ve just handed my ass to me. Because of your mom, I was a fantastic student. Even if it was just to piss her off…”

She is _howling_ with laughter, and Clarke is looking at us with raised eyebrows.

I can’t take my eyes off of her – she’s like a carbon copy of her mother, but less… hardened. She’s maintained her innocence. I mean, yeah she knows what sex is, and she will occasionally curse, and she does have a few cynical views, but she’s still a child. I think the most significant difference between the two is that Alex accepts love more readily than Clarke does. Clarke _loves_ deeply, but has a hard time accepting love from others. Alex doesn’t question the love people give her. A lot of that is because of Clarke.

Clarke effortlessly cultivates empathy in her daughter. She always questions whether she’s doing the right thing, whether she’s ruining Alex. I’ll admit, she’s not exactly ‘typical’ in her methods. They both have a _really_ tactless sense of humor sometimes. But, I think their insensitivity has more to do with their intellect. When it comes down to it, I’ve never met two people who _feel_ or _care_ as much as they do.

Then the ride announcer calls for everyone to keep their hands in the cars because the ride is about to begin. Alex squeals, then starts screaming with everyone else while the ride speeds up.

 

* * *

 

**Clarke POV**

I sit on the bench next to tetanus-riddled attraction that Alex and Bellamy have chosen to ride. I know my daughter. She picked this one because she knew it would take a long time to load, giving her ample time to interrogate Bellamy. She may have readily accepted our relationship, but she still has questions. They’re loaded into their seat, and I see a look of determination on Alex’s face. As soon as they’re buckled in, she start straight into her line of questioning. I see her take breaks here and there to let Bellamy answer her questions. A few times, I see him cringing like he’s underneath a hot lamp. I let out a snort of laughter that both of them must hear, since they simultaneously turn their heads my direction.

I’m intrigued when I see them huddled together, like they’re whispering or something. Then Alex breaks into shrieks of laughter, so I figure Bellamy must be spilling some embarrassing secret about me… Once the ride gets started, Bellamy is looking like he might be regretting his decision to get on the ride. I told them both that my vestibular system does not agree with those kinds of rides, promising that I would definitely vomit all over them if they tried to make me ride anything. When the ride comes to a close, Bellamy and Alex are the first car set up to be emptied. Alex comes bouncing off, all geared up for the next ride. Bellamy, on the other hand, looks like he’s going to puke. Alex is holding his hand, giving soothing little strokes on his palm. I meet them at the exit gate and give him a pitying smile.

“Awww, Bell… you’re not looking so good.” He gives me a slight glare, which would be more intimidating if he didn’t look like he was about to lose his lunch.

Alex raises an eyebrow, “So, you’re probably going to sit out a bunch of rides, too, aren’t you?”

Bellamy nods, “Yeah, I think so, kiddo. Sorry.”

Alex shrugs her shoulders, “Eh, your loss.” She makes her way to the next dilapidated ride and gets in line, making conversation with some girls who will probably be her new best friends by the end of the line. Meanwhile, Bellamy and I take a seat on a bench next to it.

Bellamy chuckles, “She’ll do fine in life.”

I nod, “Yeah. So what were you guys talking about?”

He shrugs, “You know, stuff… Things…”

I roll my eyes, “she didn’t seem to rake you over the coals too long.”

“No, she went easy on me.” Then he smirks. “She asked me to tell her a story about you and I before she was born.”

I groan, “Dear lord, Bell. What did you tell her? Because she was cracking the fuck up next to you.”

“I told her about how you used to hate me freshman year. She asked why… My explanation was something along the lines of boys pulling on girls’ ponytails on the playground.”

I scoff, “Oh please, you despised me as much if not more.”

“You really were a little clueless then, weren’t you?”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

He smirks (fucker), “For starters, we both know you didn’t hate me.”

I roll my eyes to stare at the clouds above, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” But I can’t hide the grin on my face.

He continues, “Also, we both know I _certainly_ didn’t hate you.”

I raise an eyebrow in question, “Oh really? Then why again were you so antagonistic?”

He shrugs again, “Boys and girls… ponytails… playground. You know.”

I lean over to give him a G-rated kiss (we are at a family establishment, after all). “Well, you do have a thing for hair-pulling… Then I smack his chest, “You were such a dick! You made it your daily mission to piss me off!”

The fucker smirks again, “How else was I going to get your attention?”

“It was negative attention, you jackass!”

He pinches my inner thigh, “Hey, attention is attention.” He lowers his voice to a whisper, “You knew my name, that’s for sure… Tell me you didn’t fantasize about screaming it during hypothetical hot, wild hate sex.”

I gaze at the clouds above again, “I think you know I’d be lying if I told you that…” I smile at the memory, then catch his eye in a smoldering glare as I lower my own voice against his ear, “Wild hate-fucking Bellamy Blake was a regular in my spank bank…”  

He growls against my neck, “Why? Why are we in public right now? I want to drag you around that corner and fuck you. I want to taste your pussy while you come apart, like right fucking now.”

I shake my head to clear my head because his voice, dripping like honey, saying those deliciously sinful words, is making me light-headed… “One: we brought a child with us and we can’t let her out of our sight. Two: I’m already worried about picking up diseases from this goddamn bench by just sitting in it.”

He moans, “Princess…”

“Bellamy, you can NOT call me Princess out here!”

He smirks, “Why not?”

I smack at his chest, “You know why fucking not! You’ve conditioned me, like fucking Pavlov’s dogs, asshole…”

He laughs, “Pavlov…”

“Yeah, you know, the guy who conditioned the dogs where they’d hear a sound and start salivating…”

He pokes at me, “I know who Pavlov is, _Princess…_ ”

“Fuck you.”

He smirks, “Yes, please?”

I “Maybe later... at _home_. Or at least not next to the fucking Tilt-A-Whril.”

“Looking forward to it, _Princess._ ”

“Goddamnit Bellamy, quit saying Princess!”

“It’s funny though, salivating…” He lowers his voice, his lips only millimeters from my ear, “Only it’s not your _mouth_ getting wet, is it, Princess?”

I groan when I lean into his chest.

The fucker winks at me… “What happens when I tell you what a good girl you’ve been?”

He knows he’s hitting all the right buttons… _Princess… Good Girl…_

I shift in my seat.

He’s whispering in my ear, “I know why you just squirmed… Princess.”

“Oh my god, Bellamy. You’re insufferable. And now I have to suffer the rest of the day all… wet.”

He smirks, looking ridiculously satisfied with himself. Time for a little payback… I groan in his ear, “Bellamy… what makes it even more uncomfortable is the fact that I’m not wearing panties.”

Now it’s his turn to adjust himself. Ha.

“Not fair, Princess… You can hide it when you’re all hot and bothered.” He looks pointedly at the bulge in his jeans.

I thank every deity in the skies when I see Alex’s “BFF” and her family walking towards us.   I whisper in Bellamy’s ear, “Bathroom. Five minutes.” I nod my head over to the bathrooms across the way. “Use the family bathroom – the door locks.”

He groans, “Thank fucking god.”

Just as he’s heading off, Katelyn’s mom, Angela, comes over. She’s always so _happy_ about everything, and usually it’s irritating, but I’m in a great mood. I explain that I _really_ need to use the restroom and ask if it would be okay if she kept an eye on Alex. Katelyn has already made her way over to Alex, and Angela shoos me away, “Go – take your time, the girls are having a great time already!”

I book it to the bathroom where I told Bellamy to meet me. I knock on the door and it’s opened by a beautiful, desperately horny man with a wolfish grin on his face. He grabs my wrist and drags me inside while I shriek with surprised laughter. He closes the door quickly, locking it. I glance around the bathroom, which is surprisingly _not_ disgusting. There’s a bench-type seat in it, but there’s no goddamn way I’m sitting on it. “Uh, Bellamy, I’m not sitting on that.”

He grabs my wrist and pulls me to him. He grabs my hips so hard they’ll definitely bruise later (I’m looking forward to those souvenirs) and slams me against the wall. “Don’t worry, Princess… We won’t be sitting.”

I grin and bite my lip… “Then take me, already.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I really don't mean for this to be a "cliffhanger" for sex, but there's something that feels wrong about writing a graphic sex scene in the same chapter as the heart-to-hearts with minor children. 
> 
> Smutty goodness returns next ;-)


	20. Lakeside (part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I've been so pleased with the feedback I've gotten on this fic - THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH! Please, keep the kudos and reviews coming - they're all so motivating and make me stupidly happy :-)
> 
> Someone requested sex in a public place. You're welcome ;-)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Clarke + Bellamy + teasing = SEX (yay!)
> 
> Nothing in here should be too freaky. They're in a public place, so it's not super kinky here (unless you count that being in public is a kink in itself...). Power play!

_“Then take me, already.”_

 

I love when Bellamy fucks me into a wall. Usually the wall is not in a theme park bathroom, but beggars can’t be choosers.

His lips are on my neck immediately. I tangle my fingers into his hair and pull back so he can see my face when I warn him, “Bell, NO HICKEYS. I don’t have more foundation with me, and Katelyn’s mom is out there right now.”

He groans in protest, “Compromise: I’ll only mark you under your clothes.” He has already reattached himself to my skin by the time I nod my head. He’s moving his ministrations down my body. “How much time do we have?”

“Not a lot – Alex and Katelyn will probably be through the line in the next ten minutes.” I’ve got my hands in his hair still, and I’m pushing his head down towards where I really want him. He takes the hint and he’s on his knees within seconds.

He smirks against my abdomen, “Challenge accepted.” As he’s unbuttoning my shorts, he bites down on my hip bone, and I know there’s going to be a mark there. One of the buttons is stuck in the hole, and I can feel his frustrated huffs of air against my skin. “Why the fuck are there so many buttons on these things?”

I laugh as I pull a hand out of his hair and help unfasten it – they’re new shorts, so the kinks are still being worked out. “Bellamy, there are only three buttons.” After the last button is freed, he gives a victorious sigh. He dips a finger in between my folds, “ _Fuck_ , Princess, you really _are_ soaking wet.”

If my eyes were open, I would have rolled them… “Like you’re surprised… Oh, and sorry I lied about the underwear thing.”

He laughs against my skin while trailing his tongue in a line from my belly button toward my pussy. He pulls my shorts and panties down my legs, careful to let me step out of them without losing my flip-flops (there’s no fucking way I’m touching a public bathroom floor with my bare feet). With a shit-eating grin, he puts my panties in my hand, “That’s good – you’ll need something to gag yourself with.”

I moan a little too loudly, and I can actually feel myself get _wetter_ at that statement.

“See what I mean?” I look down at him and he’s got a smirk on his face that makes my heart skip a beat. “I haven’t even started fucking you yet and you can’t keep it down.” He smiles, “So put those in your mouth, _now._ ” He gives me his “Dom” look and I know it’s time to fall into line.

“ _Yes sir.”_ I stuff them into my mouth, and I was not kidding when I said I was wet… Being able to taste myself while he’s about to taste me is quickly becoming a new turn-on. He wrenches my legs apart and throws my knee over his shoulder, opening me up and exposing me fully to him. I feel his breath on my cunt just briefly before he licks a firm line along my slit, then impales me with his long tongue, writhing it around inside of me just how I like it. I’m thankful for the gag, since I’m already moaning. I can hear him making obscene slurping sounds down there, knowing it turns me on to hear how wet I am. I have one hand still in his hair, and one absentmindedly grabbing my at own shoulder.

Bellamy has angled his head back so I am practically sitting _on_ his mouth while his tongue is deep inside of me. The positioning can’t be comfortable, but he doesn’t seem to care. I’ve asked him why he does it, and he says it’s so he can see _my_ face while I come all over _his_. Fuck if _that_ statement didn’t make me want to fuck him all over again…

He extricates my hand from his hair and places it on my breast. He grunts while looking at my breasts, not wanting to take his tongue out of me to speak his orders. When he does this, he wants _me_ to vocalize his orders, demanding that I read his mind. I’ve gotten good at that. It’s sometimes difficult to formulate complete sentences when I’m blissed out, but he always makes it worth the effort…

I use one hand to pull my makeshift gag from my mouth. “Do you want me to grab my tits, Sir?”He nods his head, which makes his nose bump against my clit (bonus). I comply, thankful I chose to wear a halter top in this summer heat. He takes my panties from my hands for now, since my hands will be otherwise occupied, and I still need to use my mouth. I untie the top, but before I can peel it off my chest, Bellamy’s hand grips the hem, and he yanks it down. He has a satisfied glimmer in his eye when my breasts bounce free of their confines. When he groans, I can feel the vibrations against my cunt.   I grip as much of the flesh as possible between my hands and squeeze. My hands aren’t as big as Bellamy’s so I can’t do the thing where he cups them fully, but I make a valiant effort. He nods in approval (fuck, yes that feels good).

Bellamy’s tongue is _still_ writhing around inside of my cunt, and it’s fucking glorious. He grunts and furrows his brows. _“_ Squeeze them together, sir?” He nods again, and as I push my tits together, he grinds his nose while making a growling sound, bestowing additional vibrations against my clit, and I’m about to fall apart. He pauses the noises and gets my attention again with a quick hum. He narrows his eyes, still looking at my tits. “Play with my nipples, sir?” Another nod to bump my clit (It obviously pays off to read his cues with accuracy – and with rewards like this, I learned _very_ quickly). I lick my fingers and bring them back to tweak my nipples. Each pinch sends a sensation straight to my clit, and I’m thinking I might need that gag back soon. He gives me a look, and I know he wants me to blow on them, so I purse my lips dramatically (he loves it) and gently blow while giving him my best ‘fuck me’ eyes. I see him shift a little, so I know he’s getting painfully hard. If he knows what’s good for him, he’ll let me come soon so he can fuck me and take care of his situation. _“_ Please can I come, sir?” His eyes smile for him while he nods, and I feel my heart start to race.

He hands me back the panties, and I know things are about to get explosive. As I’m stuffing them back in my mouth, tasting myself again, he spirals his tongue out of my cunt and closes his lips over my clit. He thrusts two fingers into me to replace his tongue while he sucks my clit into his mouth and I nearly scream against my improvised gag as my orgasm tears through me. He maintains suction while he growls, knowing that I feel the vibrations all the way into my fingertips. He eventually releases my throbbing clit but keeps his fingers inside me, thrusting deliciously.

Bellamy stands back up as he plants bruising kisses and bites all the way up my torso, while his fingers are still skillfully fucking me. When he reaches my neck, he sings my praises, “You’re a good girl… Such a good, girl.” I can’t hold back my appreciative moans. Yeah, the gag was a really good idea…

* * *

 

Bellamy POV

I almost came in my pants when I saw Clarke above me just now: pinching her own tits, gagged on her own panties, gazing at me with her self-described ‘fuck-me’ eyes. I love seeing her fall apart, and tasting her makes it that much better. She won’t let me mark her in easily visible places, so I compensate by leaving extra marks in the hidden areas. There will be a fuck ton of bite marks on her torso tomorrow. Hopefully we aren’t planning on going swimming, or she’ll be stuck wearing a one-piece… I smirk, thinking about how annoyed she’ll act, but how turned on she’ll actually be.  When I reach her neck, and start murmuring her favorite phrases into her neck, she groans against her panty-gag and my impossibly hard cock gets harder.

I’m trying (with little success) to unbuckle my belt with one hand, since my other hand is occupied, mercilessly fucking her with my fingers. As if she can read my mind, she brings her hands down to unfasten my belt and pants, pushing them down just enough to let my cock out. I remove my fingers from her pussy, and she lets out frustrated whimper as her hips try and chase my hand.

I shake my head, admonishing her, “Nuh uh uh,” (Clarke likes to pretend she hates it when I scold her like a toddler. If I tried this outside of sex, she’d have my nuts for a necklace, but in this setting, she totally gets off on it). She gives me a feigned look of apology. I grab her under her ass so I can hike her up higher. With our considerable height difference, I have to lift her up off the floor to fuck her against the wall. As if she’s had a ton of practice (she has), she grips my cock in her hand, lining it up with her entrance as I thrust up into her and her legs wrap around my waist to lock me in place. She releases a satisfied moan as I stretch her out. I pull her hips a few inches from the wall – it gives her some room to move her hips and meet my thrusts with ease.  

When we fuck against a wall, Clarke usually likes me to take her from behind. I share her enthusiasm for that technique (even if it _is_ tricky given how much shorter she is). It’s fucking hot when her cheeks or forehead are plastered into the wall while I’m pounding into her. However, there’s no way in hell I’m going to put her face on any wall in _this_ establishment. We’re probably due for some face-to-face wall sex, anyway.

As I thrust up with force, she closes her eyes and slams her head back against the wall. “Fuck, Princess… You’re so fucking wet.” She moans into her gag as she rotates her hips while I thrust up into her in a way that gets both of us off fast. We’re well-practiced in the art of the ‘quickie.’ We don’t always have the time to languidly explore every inch of each other as we work our way up to orgasms. We can make “hard and fast” work for us when we need to. For instance, it’s useful when we’re having a quick fuck in a theme park restroom while unsuspecting park-goers stroll by on the other side of the wall.

She can’t engage in dirty talk like she usually does since her speech is, by necessity, stifled. But her desperate moans are a whole different kind of arousing. Since there could be innocent ears nearby, I have to whisper all of my filthy thoughts into her ears. When I tilt my hips at a new angle, she releases an enthusiastic moan.

“You like that, Princess?” She nods, making lewd sounds against her gag. I continue thrusting, and I can see she’s getting close but can’t quite get there. _“_ You wanna come, don’t you?” She nods. “You want me to fuck you harder?” She furrows her brows and nods furiously. I oblige, snapping my hips against her with increased force. “Faster?” She moans in assent. I increase the pace. “Touch yourself, Princess.” Her hand darts to her clit and she starts rubbing in furious tiny circles. “Open your eyes…” She complies, and she looks absolutely desperate. “Good girl… Now touch yourself and make yourself come, baby…”

She throws her head back again, baring her neck, and it’s taking everything in me to control the urge to bite her exposed flesh and leave my mark on her. I feel my hands gripping her ass harder as the tension inside of me builds. I feel the walls of her cunt fluttering, and I know I’m about to be pulled over the edge with her. Her whole body tenses up as she hits her climax and she releases a gratified moan as her cunt starts pulsating around my cock. With a few more forceful thrusts, I release myself deep inside of her with a shameless groan of my own. I still myself within her and we pause for a few seconds. We’re breathing heavily and there are beads of sweat rolling down our faces.

While we recover, I’m resting my forehead against her collarbone and I can feel her tangling her fingers into my hair so she can give me a light massage into my scalp.  I told her once that I love coming down like that – recovering my strength as she plays with my hair or rubs tiny patterns against my scalp. Now she does it every chance she gets, and I fucking love her for it.

She unwraps a leg from around my waist as I let her slide down, catching herself on the ball of her sandaled foot. She brings a hand to her face, presumably to remove the impromptu gag from her mouth. “Bellamy, my other sandal – can you grab it?”

I pull out of her and take a step back to fetch the sandal that landed a few feet behind me. I turn back around and the sight in front of me takes my breath away. Clarke is _absolutely_ _disheveled_ – leaning slack against the wall, balancing on one foot, naked from the waist down, the top of her shirt shoved down with her tits exposed, her panties dangling from a finger with her other hand against her forehead… Yeah, this is going in the spank bank.

I hand her back her sandal with a smirk, then re-situate my pants. I can’t take my eyes off of her.

“What?” She looks at me questioningly.

I huff a laugh, “Nothing. You look well and truly fucked.”

She gives me a lopsided grin and rolls her eyes. “Speak for yourself, Bell.”

I check the mirror and my hair is wild, sticking in all directions. I nod my approval, “Well done, Princess…” I pinch her thigh just as she slips her other sandal on and she yelps while jumping away from me. I won’t lie – I wanted to see her tits bounce a bit. Clarke rolls her eyes, knowing exactly what just went through my mind. I go back to trying to make my hair look a little less fucked while she bends down to grab her shorts. While she’s distracted I snatch her panties out of her hand and put them in my pocket. I smirk when she narrows her eyes at me, but she doesn’t fight me on it. We finish getting dressed, and she fixes her hair into a ponytail, checking in the mirror to make sure I didn’t leave any marks.

“I know you think you’re trying to tease me, keeping my panties as a little souvenir… But I don’t think you took into account the fact that every time you check out my ass, which you do _constantly_ , you’re going to remember I’m not wearing anything under my shorts.” She cocks her head to the side, “Hmm. Who is going to be more tortured this afternoon?” Fuck. That’s why she didn’t fight me when I snatched them from her hands… I lean down so I can groan against her neck, knowing that move always leaves her tingling with need. I bite her earlobe for good measure. She tries to look nonchalant as she shrugs her shoulders, but I can see her pupils are blown and she’s practically biting a hole into her lower lip.

Clarke pulls me in for a kiss. “We should totally do that again sometime.”

I laugh, “Agreed.”

She cracks the door open so she can peek outside. “Good, there’s nobody around.” She darts out the door, pulling me with her, “Come on, hurry up before someone sees!” I chuckle at how flustered she gets when she’s worried about being caught. She shoots me a glare, but laughs with me once we’re farther from the bathrooms. We’re holding hands, laughing like giddy teenagers as we make our way back to the Tilt-A-Whirl, where Alex and her friend are getting back in line for another round. I come to a halt and tug her back to me, wrapping my other arm around her waist and pulling her in for a slow kiss. She melts against me as I disentangle our fingers so I can bring my hand up to cup her face. She brings her arms around my neck and tilts her head to deepen the kiss. I could get lost in this woman…  We’re interrupted by hoots and hollers from Alex and her friend (and their newly acquired league of followers). Clarke is blushing a furious shade of red as she breaks the kiss, but laughs and takes a bow for our audience.

She takes my hand again and pulls me over to where Katelyn’s parents are standing. Angela, the mom shoots us a raised eyebrow with a beaming smile. I’ve met Angela before when she brought Alex home or when we picked up Katelyn for sleepovers. I haven’t met Katelyn’s dad, yet, but he looks like a nice enough guy. “Bellamy, you know Angela.” I nod and I’m about to extend my hand for a handshake but she pulls me in for a hug instead. Clarke warned me before I met Angela that she was a “huggy” person, but somehow I keep forgetting _how_ huggy she is. “And this is Will, her husband.” He extends a hand like a normal person and I give a firm handshake. I’m grateful he isn’t one of those guys who uses handshakes as a display of dominance and tries to break my hand as a way of greeting.

The four of us talk about family, and the kids’ schooling and other domestic shit while waiting for the girls to get their fill of the Tilt-A-Whirl. In a move that surprises _nobody_ , Katelyn and Alex implore for both families to spend the rest of the day together at the park. And even more unsurprisingly, we all agree with to their proposed terms (“Katelyn and I can ride all the rides together, that way none of you have to ride them with us!”).

Clarke and I spend the rest of the afternoon and evening teasing the fuck out of each other with clever innuendo and tormenting touches. By the time we get home and tuck in an already-sleeping Alex, Clarke and I are both boiling over with lust. Thank fuck we didn’t over-exert ourselves at the park today.

As Clarke quietly closes Alex’s door and walks back toward the kitchen, I drag my gaze hungrily up and down her body. She sees this and reciprocates in earnest while biting her lower lip, knowing it drives me crazy. Once she’s finally standing in front of me, she hooks a finger through one of my belt loops and pulls me in for a lazy kiss that quickly becomes scorching with need.

I break the kiss and quietly speak against her ear, “Drink two glasses of water and eat something substantial – not just a few crackers.”

She smirks, “Suggestions?”

I go over to the fridge and pull out yogurt and blueberries, along with orange juice I pour in a glass. “Here – carbs and protein.” I take the opportunity to trail my knuckles up and down her body, grazing her shoulders, nipples, and abdomen.. Her pupils are blown and her breaths are coming quick and shallow. “I’ve got plans for this body tonight, and you’re gonna need the energy, Princess.” She smiles with excitement and gets to finishing up the snack I put out. “I’ll meet you upstairs when you’re done.” She nods with a smirk.

I’ve got a thousand ideas racing through my head already. The only problem I face is deciding where to start…


	21. count them out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke + Bellamy + kinky toys = ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ 
> 
> Picks up immediately after ch. 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for all of the great feedback so far! It makes my day to get reviews and kudos, so keep them coming!!! 
> 
> So this is was a beast of a chapter - I think just under 9K words of fun and kinky smut  
> *Trigger warnings*  
> Bondage  
> Electro-sex (TENS unit again)  
> Erotic pain  
> Punishment (spanking)  
> Rough sex  
> Anal play (very mild)

Clarke POV:

Bellamy has a lascivious gaze as he trails his knuckles along my body, and his voice drips like honey on my skin. “I’ve got plans for this body…” He sets out some food for me to eat before meeting him upstairs. He won’t let up on this time he told me to “eat something” before a play session, and I only ate a few crackers. I was excited, okay? I mean, _maybe_ I nearly passed out in a cold sweat a few hours later, shaking from hunger (and _maybe_ that’s technically hypoglycemia). Whatever… This is a big deal to Bellamy in his role as a Dom – he feels responsible for my well-being. I don’t want to put him in a position to feel like he failed me somehow, so I try to do my part to take care of myself.

It’s been an issue the entire time he’s known me. It’s not a body image thing. I love food, I really, _really_ do. But, when I’m worried or excited about something, I tend to forget to eat. Food and sustenance gets put on the back burner. That’s all. It’s been this way for me as long as I can remember. It’s why I was genuinely concerned that I would accidentally starve my offspring to death. It drove Bellamy crazy in college. He tried to help me set timers and reminders to eat. He would come over and help me put “snack packs” together before finals each semester, that way I had something on-hand when I started crashing. Since having Alex, I actually have gotten a lot better about it. But, sometimes I get excited and the whole ‘fun-first-food-later’ habit comes back…

Despite practically vibrating with excitement, I finish the yogurt and blueberries he set out and gulp down the orange juice and glasses of water. I dart over to Alex’s room to make sure her white-noise machine is turned on. She had been begging for one long before Bellamy (and his tendency to make me scream like a banshee) came around. I figured now was as good a time as any to grant that wish. I grab a few more water bottles on my way upstairs, knowing it will come in handy and Bellamy will appreciate the gesture.

I walk into my bedroom and Bellamy is carefully unwinding a skein of gorgeous medium-fiber rope. Judging by the length of rope he’s handling, my guess is that we’ll be doing a body harness of some sort. There is something about the rope bondage that is so beautiful to me. The act of being restrained is erotic and brings pleasure to a whole new level. Being helpless and at his mercy amplifies the joy I experience. But the ropes – they leave such incredible _evidence_ on my body, and there’s something about it that I love.

The lighting in my room is low. We thought about lighting candles once, but Bellamy made the point that nothing kills the mood like a fire alarm. Given how much shit gets thrown around when we’re really going at it, the chances of setting a fire are somewhat high. So, we use low-wattage bulbs instead so we can have low lighting. I flip on the white noise machine outside of my own door as I make my way into my bedroom. There’s music playing in the background. We put together a few playlists to accompany our play sessions that accent whatever activity we’re doing.

I close and lock the door behind me as I walk into the room and Bellamy turns around, giving me one of his warm smiles. He crooks his finger, signaling me to come over to him. I stop when I’m standing in front of him and he turns my body to face the bed while he steps behind me. He wraps his arms around my front and leaves gentle kisses on my temple, then nibbles my earlobe and continues leaving small nips along my neck until he gets to my halter top. He unties the straps but doesn’t peel the top off my chest yet. Instead, he pulls my hair tie off and lets my hair fall down in waves that tickle the center of my back. He gives me a gentle scalp massage, causing goosebumps to erupt all over my body before pulling my hair back up into a bun.

Bellamy plants a line of kisses up the side of my neck to my ear as he mumbles his plans against my skin. The low timbre of his voice makes me feel buzzed, “I’m going to tie you in a Karada harness, Princess.” I shiver as he sucks on my earlobe. We’ve done the body harness before – it’s a highly sensual experience. The tying process is erotic, with the sweeping touches all over the body. Then there are all the things it can do to your body while tied – just moving in the harness becomes an erotic corporeal encounter. “I’ve got something extra, too. I think you’ll like it.” I feel myself smiling as he turns me around to face him.

He rubs the palms of his hands up and down my arms, bringing me to the moment with him. He pulls my top over my head and he tosses it to the side, and without missing a beat, his hands are cupping and kneading my breasts. I keep my arms obediently passive at my side, knowing it’s up to him to move them. He kisses my nose playfully, making me laugh, then bites my chin while he plucks my nipples almost painfully. That draws out a moan. I’m _really_ glad we invested in the white noise machines. He drops to his knees to pull my short off again. While the teasing was fun this afternoon, the denim of my shorts against my bare bottom became uncomfortable over the course of the day, especially considering my ass cheeks were still a bit raw from last night’s flogging.

After I step out of my shorts, he laves his tongue over the bite marks he left this afternoon. He chooses a few random marks and re-bites them to make them darker, because he is Bellamy, and has to leave his mark. And fuck… his compulsion to mark me turns me on like nothing else. With his hands on my hips, he drags his tongue along what _would_ be my underwear line as he turns me around. He pulls his head back and gently runs his fingers over the sensitive flesh of my ass.

“Clarke, was this bothering you today?” The concern in his voice is evident.

I shrug, “Only toward the very end of the day. I was too worked up to notice until we were sitting in the car, then it was kind of uncomfortable.”

“I’m sorry – I didn’t even think about it.” I look behind me to see his face, and he looks genuinely remorseful.

“Bellamy, seriously, don’t worry about it. It’s okay, really.” I search his eyes to make sure he understands that I really am not upset about it.

He nods his head, “Okay. Well, let me take care of it now, at least.” He rises to his feet again and goes over and grabs the lavender salve from yesterday, along with a bottle of massage oil. He thought ahead enough to bring it with us from his place. Fuck, he’s a keeper… “Lay on the bed, face down.” I comply, curling my arms under a pillow to support my head. He starts gently massaging the salve into the tender skin. It really isn’t that sore, but I’m not going to turn down a massage from his nimble fingers. After a while, he drips some of the massage oil on my back and begins loosening up knots I didn’t realize were there. After he’s satisfied with my back, he moves back down my body, giving my gluteal region more attention (of course). He continues farther down, kneading all the tension out of my hamstrings, outer thighs, and my calves.

When he starts making his way back up, instead of a kneading massage, he places open-mouth kisses up the back of my calves. When he gets to my knees, he starts alternating legs, swirling his tongue along my inner thighs. He nudges at them, “Spread open for me, Princess.” When I do, I feel him dip his fingers between my cheeks, lower and lower until he is parting my pussy lips. “Always _so fucking_ _wet_ for me, Princess.” I groan in appreciation when he moves to dip a finger into my dripping cunt. “Does this feel good, Princess?”

I moan shamelessly, “ _So_ fucking good…” He stops his ministrations. “… _sir_ ”

“ _Good Girl_.” Another moan escapes me and I can feel him fucking smirking against my thigh while he resumes his teasing touches.

I feel his other hand on my ass cheeks again, which is unusual. I feel him tracing a line up my spine, then back down slowly, slowly, slowly. I know where he’s going, and he’s going extra slow to give me a chance to opt out. I consider it, consider calling “yellow” before his finger grazes my unsullied rosebud. As he gets closer, I find my curiosity is stronger than my instinctual aversion to anal play. I know I can call a safeword at any time if I don’t like it. So, instead of clenching my ass cheeks together in a protective manner, I arch my ass into the air, slightly spreading my cheeks in invitation.

His finger stops just where the cleavage of my ass begins and stays there. “You okay to try this, Princess?” I pause a few moments to consider the question, and then I nod to the affirmative, _“mmm hmm._ ” He adds a second finger to my cunt, grazing my g-spot. He removes his other hand from the cleft of my ass. I wiggle my hips, not wanting to verbalize my question.

I can hear the smile in his voice, “Don’t worry, Princess. I’ll get back there. Just relax.” I huff in response. “Give me your word.”

I groan, “Cherries, sir.”

“Good girl.”

I bury my face in my pillow, not wanting to grant him the satisfaction of the shameless moan that is begging to escape me. He chuckles in response to his praises, “You can try to hide your face, but you can’t hide how _wet_ you are, Princess.”

That one makes me laugh out loud, so I turn my face back to the side, “I guess not…”

He removes his fingers from my cunt, trails them over my ass cheeks, then squeezes my thigh, “Turn on your back.” I roll over as he asks. He gets up to fetch a few things.

I sit up, propping myself up with my arms behind me. I graze my eyes over his body. My voice is something between teasing and sultry, “Bellamy, why are you still dressed?”

He smirks, looking me in the eye and gesturing to himself. “What, you want some of this?”

I nod, “You know I do.” He slowly pulls his shirt over his head by the collar and I can see his obnoxiously well-toned abs flex while he does it. I feel my tongue drag itself along my open lips, practically of its own accord. He has a shit-eating grin on his face when he catches my lascivious gaze. “Pants, too.” He raises an eyebrow. “Please, sir?” My heart starts beating wildly when he starts unfastening his belt buckle, then unbuttoning his jeans teasingly slowly. I give an appreciative groan. “God, you’re fucking gorgeous, Bell.” I don’t compliment him enough. I give him a lot of shit, because he _knows_ how fucking god-like his body is. But, I still feel like I should verbalize my appreciation more often. He unzips his jeans, then hooks his thumbs into his boxers so he can slowly ( _again, so fucking slowly)_ drag them down his hips, allowing his erection to spring free. He pushes them a little farther down, then lets them drop to the floor in a heap, where he kicks them to the side after stepping out of them. I bite my lip and nod my head in approval, “Fucking gorgeous.” He rolls his eyes, almost to hide the fact that he’s grateful for the flattery. He’s about as good at taking genuine compliments as I am (read: gets flustered and doesn’t quite know what to do at first).

He turns back around to retrieve something else from near the dresser, definitely taking the time to flex his gluteal muscles gratuitously. I voice an appreciative _“Mmmmm-hmmmm_ … Yeah, the backside is equally stunning.” He drops his head and shakes it, almost embarrassed. Yeah, I definitely need to compliment him more if it’s this awkward for him to receive praise from me. I make a mental note of it.

He turns back around and stalks to the bed again. He sits on the bed next to me. He cups my breasts again. “Your tits are fucking magnificent.”

I roll my eyes, “Tell that to the stretch marks…” He frowns at me again. I forget that he hates when I insult my own features. “What? They, like, blew up when I was breastfeeding.” He grins, apparently remembering how huge they got. Even though we were just friends at the time, he couldn’t stop himself from staring at my tits all the time. “And, they’re not as perky anymore, not after nursing Alex for three and a half years.”

He raises an eyebrow. “I really shouldn’t be feeling jealous about that…”

I shake my head, laughing, “No, you shouldn’t. And if you even _try_ to give me shit when I’m breastfeeding _our_ kids that long-”

He grins, “Kids? Like plural?”

I pause. “Fuck, we’re doing it again – talking about kids.”

He laughs. “We are…”

I laugh with him and roll my eyes, “Okay, we can have another kid conversation later. Let’s get back to fucking, please?” I give him a ‘come hither’ look while biting my lip.

Bellamy wrenches my legs apart to settle between them, and practically _pounces_ on me, feasting on my mouth with a passionate kiss and making it a point to grope my breasts again. He travels back down my chest again, squeezing the globes together a few times, then tweaking my nipples before closing his mouth around one of them. He laves his tongue over the sensitive peaks then sucks, releasing with a “pop” sound. Each biting tug on my nipple feels like it's going straight to my clit. He blows lightly on it, making my nipple pebble up to his satisfaction. He repeats this on my other breast, while his hands start to travel toward my heat so he can pick up where he left off before I got all distracted by his bod.

After he’s paid generous attention to my breasts, he begins dragging his tongue down from the valley between my breasts, over my navel, and toward my pussy. He sits up again, grabbing a few pillows from next to me. He taps my hips, “Lift up for me.” He slides a few pillows underneath my hips as I lift them off the bed. He taps my hips again, signaling me to relax again.

I close my eyes, choosing to just _feel_ whatever he has planned for me. He pulls my legs apart. His voice sounds starved, “Fuck, Princess, you look _delectable_.” I moan when I feel the heat of his breath against my cunt. He flicks his tongue out and slides it between my folds while he pushes my legs up so my thighs are almost against my chest. He trails the pads of his fingers back down my thighs and squeezes my ass cheeks while dipping his tongue into my pussy and writhing it around. My moans are guttural. With a finger, he gives a few gentle strokes to my clit, and my hips buck against him. He pulls his tongue out and closes his lips around my clit. He strokes it with his tongue a few times before sucking it into his mouth, and I can’t hold back an ecstatic sob. He gives a few gentle tugs before releasing it, leaving my legs shaking as I whimper. He keeps two fingers in my pussy, crooked and softly rocking inside of me.

I feel him dribbling something onto my taint, letting it trickle between my cheeks. I feel him use the fingers of his free hand to tease my most taboo spot, and I can feel the building intensity, a need coiling inside of me. A few times, he lightly sweeps a finger over the my puckered rosebud, but doesn’t make moves to do anything more than just a whisper of contact.

“Bellamy, _please!”_    I’m stunned by my own craving for him to stop teasing my ass and do something already.

He chuckles, “What do you want, Princess?”

I hesitate. “I don’t _know_.”

“You don’t know? Or you don’t want to say it?”

I groan, “Don’t make me say it…”

He stops moving the fingers that are inside my pussy. He doesn’t remove them, just stills them. His voice is low and graveled, “Princess, you’re not just going to say it, you’re going to beg for it.”

He crooks his fingers inside my pussy again, _just barely_. Teasing. “Sir, please do it.”

He shakes his head, “Not good enough. Try again.”

“Sir, _PLEASE…_ your finger… in my…”

“In your what, Princess?”

 _“Please_.”

“Still not good enough, Princess.”

He starts pulling his fingers out of my pussy, and the pleasure-oriented part of my brain just takes over.

“No, PLEASE!” He puts his fingers back in my pussy, but doesn’t move them. He’s waiting for me to follow his instructions. I whisper, “... in my ass.”

“I can’t hear you.” He crooks his fingers minutely again and stops.

“Please, push your finger in”

“In?”

“In my ass, sir.”

He bites my thigh, “Almost, Princess. But you’ve still gotta beg for it.”

I moan, “Please! _Please,_ Sir.”

“That was mediocre begging, and I’ll need you to be more specific.”  

“Please. Please! PLEASE! push your finger into my ass while you keep finger-fucking my pussy!”

I open my eyes and he’s smirking into my inner thigh. He starts thrusting his fingers in my cunt again, and I can hear how utterly soaked I am with every plunge of his digits. With his other hand, I feel him resting the flat surface of his thumb against my puckered hole, pressing ever so slightly. He increases the pressure only slightly.

“Relax, Princess.” I do as he asks, taking a deep breath and nodding my head. I feel him apply a little more pressure, while amping up his efforts inside my cunt. I feel the sphincter start to relax just a bit and I instinctively start to recoil, but I force myself to relax again. I can feel it – ready for him to slide his thumb in. “Ready, Princess?”

I moan while nodding my head, “Yes, PLEASE, sir.” He removes his thumb and replaces it with a finger, which he uses to explore the surprisingly pleasurable and highly sensitive puckered folds around my hole. He keeps teasing me, mercilessly. “Fuck, PLEASE stop teasing! PLEASE finger my ass!”

“Since you asked so nicely…” He slowly pushes his finger into my sphincter, stopping once he is submerged to the first knuckle. He just waits there for me to get used to the intrusion. He wiggles his finger a little bit and my muscles spasm, and I moan in unexpected pleasure. This is nothing like I’ve ever felt before, and the pleasure has far exceeded the shame that should come with having his finger entering such a forbidden place. He pushes his finger farther, and I feel my muscles close over the next knuckle. He wiggles his finger a little more, stroking very gently inside. He finally buries his finger completely, and I release a moan when he starts to pull out just a little. He pushes in again, then brings his mouth back to the level my cunt. He adds a third finger inside of my cunt and continues to thrust mercilessly with that hand while the index finger of his other hand is gently rocking inside my ass. This new stimulation is overwhelming and I feel the orgasm building inside of me.

“Oh fuck, please… Please, can I –”

He whispers against my cunt, “Come for me Princess,” just as he closes his lips around my clit again and sucks it into his mouth with a guttural moan that sends vibrations from my core to my fingertips.

“ _Ohmyfuckinggod!_ Oh fuck!” I feel the tendons in my neck pulling as a forbidden pleasure coils inside of me. The orgasm rips through me, and I the feeling of my sphincter spasming around his finger is a new sensation that adds an entire new level of pleasure. “Ohhh F-fuck, Oh fuck, oh fuck!” My limbs are shaking as waves of ecstasy flood through me. My mind is reeling, trying to reconcile the fact that I feel such intense pleasure from such a dirty place. As the pulsations slow down, I open my eyes, and Bellamy is looking down at me with a grin. As my breathing evens out, I notice his finger is _still_ inside of me.

“Um, your finger is still—?”

He holds up a small plug. It’s thin, at least compared to some of the ones I’ve seen elsewhere. The base is probably about as wide as the finger currently inside of me. “I want to put this in, and leave it in while we play tonight.”

I nod, “Okay.” Then I feel him pull his finger out of my ass, quickly replaced by a smooth, slightly cool plug. He pulls my legs back down so I’m more comfortable.

He searches my face, “Is that okay?”

I wiggle my hips a few times, and find myself grinning, “Yeah, it’s _good_.”

He nods. “Good.”

I take a deep breath, still kind of buzzed from my last orgasm. “I never thought I’d be the type to like this.”

“Like what?”

I shrug my shoulders, “Having anything near my ass, let alone _in_ it.”

He smirks. “Think of it this way, it’s just another erogenous zone. And a pretty powerful one, at that.”

I raise an eyebrow, “Really, so it’s something _you’re_ comfortable with?”

He shrugs his shoulders, “Like I said, it’s pretty powerful.”

I nod my head. “Hmm. Okay.” I make a mental note of that.

He gives me a playful pinch on the thigh, “Up.” My body jumps in surprise, and he grins “I like when your tits bounce, Princess.” With a smirk, I wiggle my shoulders to replicate said bounces, “Like that?” He nods his head and buries his face between them, pinching my sides while he’s at it. I yelp, and my squirming reminds me of the plug that’s inside of me. It will take some getting used to.

He rolls off of me, then off of the bed, coming to his feet and pulling me up with him. His body language is commanding again as he brings me to stand in front of him. “Stay here,” he orders. I nod my head, situating myself on my feet in a neutral position – feet shoulder-width apart, arms limp by my sides, my fingers _not_ fidgeting. He walks to the bathroom and I hear him washing his hands in the sink, and I’m so grateful I didn’t have to ask him to do that. He walks back in, drying his hands off on a towel that he tosses onto the bed.

I give him a smile, “Thank you.” He nods with a smile and gives me a kiss on the forehead. He centers me by rubbing his palms up and down my arms and I close my eyes and take a deep cleansing breath. When I open them again, he’s looking into my eyes and brings a hand up to cup my cheek. He asks, “Karada?”

I nod my head, “I’d like that.” A Karada, or body-harness tie, is absolutely gorgeous, and I love the imprints it leaves. He pulls out the long rope he was handling earlier, having marked the “center” of the rope already. He doubles the rope, and places the loop behind my neck, pulling it down a little bit. I feel him making a quick overhand knot as a “placeholder” (for when he brings the rope up my back after looping it between my legs). He brings the rope around the front and loops a series of decorative knots down the front along the center of my body. He strategically places the last knot to tease my clit.

He walks behind me and feeds the rope between my legs. As he brings the rope between my legs, the knot rubs over my clit, and as he brings it up my back, I notice it is in contact with the plug that’s currently inside of me. I get goosebumps as he brings the doubled rope up along my spine to that original ‘placeholder’ knot. He unties the placeholder and runs the doubled length of rope through the bight. He splits the tails again, bringing them around to my front, and walks back around to face me. He brings the rope ends around my sides and runs them through in between two of the knots in the front column. When he pulls each end back around toward my back, it creates a diamond shape between two front knots. He repeats this process several times, and the sweeping of the ropes as they brush across my skin is giving me goosebumps.

Bellamy checks on me regularly, asking if I’m feeling any numbness or tingling or pain. I start getting swept away in the sensations. When he is manipulating the front column of knots, the clit-knot is stimulated, and after a while, I can’t hold back my moans and whimpers. By the time he’s finished, my body is practically vibrating. He walks around and inspects his final product, and brings me over to my wall-mirror. I don’t have all the fancy floor-to-ceiling mirrors like Bellamy has at his house, but this one gets the job done when I want to see myself.

“Bellamy, that’s beautiful! I love it.” He’s standing behind me and reaches around my front to play with my breasts while tugging on various spots on the harness to stimulate my clit. He turns me around and kisses me deeply, letting his fingers travel all over my body. He walks back over to the dresser and pulls out the Hitachi vibrator. I moan, knowing that the thing feels fucking incredible. He has a devious grin on his face when he pulls out the TENS unit, long wires, and an attachment, which looks like a large bullet vibrator with a wire attached. I can’t help the near-shriek of excitement I get. “OhMyGOD, Yesssss!” He smirks at my excitement.

Bellamy walks back and stands in front of me. “Spread.” I quickly spread my legs apart and he snakes a hand between them. He drops his head to my shoulder then turns his face into my neck, sucking lightly at a mark that’s probably already there. He brings his hand from my pussy to my cheek and groans against my neck, “Still so fucking wet, Princess.” My breath hitches when I feel him smearing my juices across my cheek and down my neck. He licks my fluids off my cheek with his tongue, then moves lower to suck them off of my neck.

After he’s feasted on my neck long enough, he detaches himself and produces the silver attachment to the TENS unit and starts explaining (Damn Teacher-Bellamy). “This is an insertable electrode – it has multiple contact points. It’s going to go in your cunt, and it’s going to be explosive.”

I groan in anticipation, “ _Please!”_

“Please what?” Back to Dom-Bellamy.

I straighten my head and smile sweetly, “Please Sir, _please_ put it in me.”

He drops to his knees and lifts my leg over his shoulder so that he can move the ropes over my slit to the side and he inserts the probe before replacing the ropes to their original teasing position. He attaches it to the TENS unit and sets it to the side while he picks up the Hitachi and plugs it into an extension cord. I’m pretty ridiculously excited about this.

“Now, Princess. You’re going to pleasure me while I pleasure you.” I can feel the glint of excitement in my eye.

“How can I please you, sir?”

He smirks, “How would you like to please me, Princess?”

“Can I suck your cock?” I give him a sultry look.

He smirks, “Princess, I know you _can_ suck cock. You’re not asking the right question, though.” It appears a certain grammar-policing seven year-old has influenced Bellamy… I resist the urge to roll my eyes, and instead rephrase the question.

“I’m sorry, sir. _May_ I suck your cock?” I drag my tongue along my top lip and look him in the eye. His pupils are blown and his breaths are shallow, coming fast.

He nods with a gulp, “Yes, you _may_ suck my cock, Princess.” I gaze hungrily at his large erection.

He picks up the TENS unit and Hitachi, then guides me to the side of the bed and sits down on the edge with his knees spread apart so I can get close. I drop to my knees, moaning as the movement causes the ropes to tease my clit again, I spread my knees to shoulder-width and sit back on my heels. I fold my arms behind my back, hugging each hand to the opposite forearm. I wait for him to inspect my position. He tweaks my nipples and tugs on the rope harness a few times to tease me.

Without warning, he turns the TENS unit on and I nearly scream. I feel my cunt surging, the muscles contracting and relaxing in succession. “ _OhFuckOhFUckOhFuck_ _Bell!”_

He turns the unit off, looking alarmed.

“NO, _FUCK, no!_ Don’t turn it off! Those were good ‘oh fucks!’” I’m embarrassingly breathless.

He laughs and switches it back on. It’s incredible. It’s not the same as the clit stimulation yesterday – it’s a deep, penetrating kneading sensation inside of my cunt. My eyes are closed but I’m brought back to attention by Bellamy tapping my chin. I take the hint and bend my head down to take his cock. I angle my head so I can drag my tongue along the underside of his shaft, starting at the base and laying a firm lick to the tip, swirling my tongue around the ring around the foreskin meets the glans. He is already oozing pre-come so I coat my lips with it before taking the tip into my mouth and softly licking the tip. He groans and moves his hand to my head, tangling his fingers into my hair. “Fuck, yes, just like that, Princess.”

I bob my head down a few times, slowly, each time taking a little more of him in my mouth. As I pull back, I flutter my tongue along his shaft. When I bob down again, his cock touches the back of my throat and triggers my gag reflex. I concentrate on breathing through my nose and relaxing my throat the next time I bob down on him.

“Holy _fuck_ , yes, god your throat is heavenly.” I switch it up and pull back until my mouth is almost all the way off, swirling my tongue around the edge of the head again. He tightens his fist in my hair and his whole body shudders. Paying delicate attention to his inner foreskin is one of his favorite things when I’m giving him a blowjob. “Holy fucking shit Princess, goddammit do that again.” After a few swirls, I bob my head down again, alternating that with the “tongue thing” as he calls it. The TENS attachment is still on inside of me, and my cunt is surging with pleasure. It doesn’t take long for him to get close. He taps the top of my head, which is his signal for wanting to finish off _on_ me, which is definitely a thing for him. I pull my head off and throw my head back, baring my neck. He fists his cock a few more times, groaning profane encouragements as he climaxes and white ropes of his come fall down onto my neck and tits.

Bellamy stumbles backwards until his calves hit the side of the mattress. I’m sitting now completely on my heels, my arms catching me before I can fall all the way backwards. He’s breathing heavily, and takes a moment to compose himself while the muscles of my cunt are rolling and throbbing inside, squeezing my G-spot in an indescribably blissful way. I don’t even realize my eyes are closed again until they shoot open, shocked by a sudden vibration taking over my entire body. I nearly scream in pleasure but he swallows it with a deep, impassioned kiss. After the initial shock wears off, I am able to figure out that he has touched the Hitachi vibrator to one of the knots close to my pubic bone, making it feel like the entire rope has come to life around me. I can feel the vibrations on my clit and the surging of my cunt muscles, and the cherry on top of it all is the ropes’ vibrating contact with the plug that I almost forgot was lodged in my ass…

I feel my entire body shaking as an orgasm tears through it, sobs of pleasure wracking my frame. Bellamy bends his head down to take a nipple in his mouth, using his fingers to tweak the other one and I feel the entire fucking world turn white with ecstasy. I can’t tell if it is a new orgasm, or if the one I’m having just gets more intense, but I suddenly feel a surge of wetness flowing – no, gushing – out of me. The pleasure is still ripping through me, and Bellamy breaks the kiss, looking down between my legs in shock. I can’t speak to ask what the fuck happened, but I think I have an idea… The stimulation is too much at this point, so I’m begging Bellamy, “No more, Please, I can’t-“

He quickly pulls the Hitachi away and turns the TENS unit off. I collapse forward against Bellamy’s chest. My chest is heaving and I’m catching my breath, “Thank you…”

Bellamy still looks completely stunned, “Holy. Fucking. Shit, Clarke.”

I nod my head, “Yeah, I, uh—”                                                                                     

“Fucking squirted. Holy fuck. That is so fucking hot.” He reaches down between my thighs and dips his fingers in the fluids that are now drenching me. I look at him through hooded eyes when he brings a finger to his mouth and sucks my juices off of it. I close my eyes as a shiver runs through my body.   I feel him stand me up on my feet. “Alright, I’m going to stand you up and untie the harness, princess.”

I nod, leaning against him as he props me up. “Holy fucking shit, Bellamy.”

I can feel him smiling against my skin, which makes me smile, “Yeah, Clarke. Holy fucking shit.”

We both huff a laugh.

“Have you ever done that before?”

I shake my head, “Nope. Another first.” I give him a smirk to match his smug grin.

He unties the knots and I watch in awe as the rope imprints are gradually revealed with each un-weaving. He knows I like to inspect them as soon as possible after he removes them, so he walks me over to the mirror once the ropes are off. I see the crisscrossed patterns along my torso and marvel at their beauty. Then my eyes are drawn to the shiny surface of my thighs, still coated in whatever the hell “squirted” out of me. There’s got to be a better word for that… Bellamy walks up behind me and lays open mouthed kisses on my shoulder. I lean back against him, and I can feel his erection dig into my back. I turn around and give him a raised eyebrow when I rub my palm over his rigid cock. “You’re hard again, already?”

“My Princess has that effect.”

I smirk, “How about we take care of that in the shower?”

He turns me around and pushes me to the bathroom, pinching my thigh playfully and laughing as I bounce away from him.

* * *

 

BELLAMY POV

For as sexually experienced as I am, I have never witnessed an authentic squirt. I’ve been with girls who would ‘squirt’ but it was really just a golden shower – they’d basically just piss when they orgasmed, which they would be really proud of. What Clarke just did? That was something else. It tasted like _her._ It was unbelievably hot to watch her come apart like that.

I push her toward the bathroom, at her suggestion. She turns the water on, and it heats up fast. I step in and tug on her hand after she closes the shower door. I pull her into me and cup her face with my hands, water falling over my shoulders, and down my arms. She grips my wrists with her hands and turns her head to press a kiss into the palm of my hand. She turns her face back to me and gazes into my eyes, tearing into my soul with her blue orbs. I trace her lips with my thumb. “I love you, Clarke.”

She nods, smiling sweetly, “I love you too, Bellamy.” She kisses my thumb and closes her eyes, dropping her hands from my wrists to my elbows. I move my hands to card them into her hair and I kiss her. She deepens the kiss with sigh, wrapping her arms around my back and caressing fingers along my spine.

She palms my cock and smiles into the kiss. “I think I said something about taking care of this.” She looks at me expectantly and smirks.

“Yeah, Princess, you said something about that.” I kiss her again, wrapping her hair around my fist. I pull her head to the side, giving me access to her neck. I drag my teeth along the exposed skin and I feel her fingernails dig into my back. “Kitty got some claws?”

She gives me a sultry look. “Maybe…” There’s an abrupt shift in atmosphere and my heart starts pounding in my chest. “Bell?” She’s as breathless as I am.

I nod, “Yeah, Clarke?” I crowd her into the wall and cage her in my arms.

She bites her lip (as if my dick needs to be any harder). “Throw me around while you fuck me. Make it rough… Really fucking rough.”

My voice is low, “You want me to hurt you?”

She nods, her pulse bounding in her throat, “I said rough, didn’t I?”

I grab her hips, _hard_ , and pull her against me, rolling my hips into hers. Her eyes are closed as I shove her backwards into the shower wall and a little squeaking gasp escapes her throat. She opens her eyes in surprise and smirks. “Like that?”

She zeroes in on me with her gaze, “More.”

“Give me your word.”

She looks me in the eye with a smirk, “Cherries.”

I grab her arm again and jerk her back toward me. “You remember your safe word?”

She nods, “Red for stop, Yellow to slow down.”

“Good. Use it if you need to, you hear me?”

She nods, “I hear you.”

I shove her again into the shower wall, this time face first. She catches herself with her forearms. “Have you been a bad girl?”

She nods her head, “Yes.”

I land a sharp slap on her ass, and she yelps, “Yes, _what_?”

She has a defiant look in her eye when she glances over her shoulder at me with a raised eyebrow and a smirk. Instead of answering me, she just shrugs her shoulders. She’s trying to provoke me. It’s working.

I pin her body against the tile with mine. “Wrong answer, Princess.”

She’s breathless, “Oh yeah? What are you gonna do about it?”

I spin her back around to face me. I stroke the back of my fingers against her neck and down her sternum before coming back up to hold her chin. “It sounds like you might need a lesson in respect.”

She tries to look condescending when she laughs, “Oh, are _you_ gonna teach me?”

I tell her warningly, “You’re playing with fire, Princess.”

She snorts, “Like you know what fire is…”

I shake my head, snaking my hands between her legs, and I can feel her cunt dripping. There’s a difference between water from the shower and the viscous lubricating product of her arousal… _“_ You’re _dripping_ for me, Princess.”

She groans, trying to appear unaffected as I thrust two fingers into her cunt. “Here I was thinking you were gonna do something about it… _Ohhhh, GOD_.” I scissor my fingers inside of her, grazing her G-spot, and by the end of the sentence she’s moaning. I feel my fingers bump against the plug that’s still buried inside of her other orifice. She gasps, probably suddenly remembering it’s still in there.  

“Are you ready to give me a more respectful answer?”

She gives me a dismissive eye roll.

“Interesting time to be refusing things, isn’t it? What did I tell you about disobedience?” I move my fingers inside of her, and her cunt clamps down as if to try and keep them from escaping. I chuckle at the thought.

“Maybe you should spank me then.”

“Careful Princess, you don’t want to confuse ‘spanking’ and ‘punishment.’ A Princess who doesn’t obey doesn’t get to come.”

With a look of stricken panic, she shrieks “NO! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean—“

I cut her off, “If you want a spanking, _all you have to do is ask.”_ I rotate my fingers in her pussy, making sure to bump against the plug on the other side of her walls.

She’s breathless and still panicky, “I’m sorry! I’ll be a good girl, sir. I _promise_.”

I would be concerned by the panicked quality of her voice, but a little glimmer of amusement slips into her eye, just briefly enough to know that she’s still into this.

I feel a wicked smile spread across my face, “You still need to be taught a lesson.”

She gives me a smirk back, “Then teach me, S _ir_.”

I step back, “Okay, Princess. Disobedience has consequences, so I still have to spank you. Five smacks for insolence.”

She nods. “Five, okay.”

I laugh darkly, “Oh, Princess… I’m sorry, I should have clarified. Five smacks for _each_ display of insolence. So let’s count. You refused to address me respectfully – that’s five, you verbally provoked me four times, that’s twenty more, then your rolled your eyes at least once that I caught, so that’s five more.”

I chuckle as her face pales. “So, Princess. You’re smart. Can you add those up for me?”

She nods slowly. Her voice is nearly a whisper, “ _Thirty_.”

“Correct.” She closes her eyes and shivers. “Now, bend forward and keep your hands on the wall. Do _not_ move them.”

She assumes the position and nods, looking a little far away…

I grab her chin, “Do you understand, Princess?”

She nods her head, “I understand.”

“Count them out.” I land the first blow on her ass without warning, and it’s not gentle. No buildup, no warmup.

She jumps, “One, sir.”

I slap again in the same spot immediately. “Two, sir.”

Another blow in the same spot, “Three, sir.”

Another smack. “Four sir.”

Another smack. She flinches, “Five, sir.”

I move to the other cheek and land a hard smack. “Six, sir.”

Again. “Seven, sir.”

Again. She hisses, “Eight, sir.”

Again. She grunts, “Nine, sir.”

Again. She moans, “Ten, sir.”

For the next ten, she counts them out dutifully, each time flinching a little harder. By number 15 she has tears in her eyes, and fuck me if it doesn’t turn me on to see her like this. After number 20, I check in, “Give me your word, Princess.” My hand is stinging like a motherfucker, and when I pause the tingling is intense.

She sniffs, “Cherries.”

“Good girl.”

She nods.

“Thank you, sir.” I walk to her side and stroke her cheek, wiping the tears from her eyes.

“You’re doing _so good,_ Princess. Only ten more left.” She swallows and nods her head.

“Count again.” I land another blow on her ass, “twenty-one, sir.”

She counts out the next one, crying freely now. As I’m about to land number 23, she calls it, “ _YELLOW!”_

I stop immediately. “Okay, Princess. We can take a break.” She has tears streaming out of her eyes still, but doesn’t move to wipe them away, so I do it for her. “You’re doing so good, _so so good_.” She gives me a weak smile. “You’ve only got eight left, okay?” She takes a deep breath. “You’re _so close,_ Princess. You can take it, I know you can.”

She nods her head. “I can take it.”

“Let me know when you’re ready to go on again.”

She takes another deep breath and nods her head, “Cherries.”

“Count.”

I land the last eight as she counts them out obediently.  She's moaning nearly _orgasmically_ at the end. By the time I get to thirty, tears are falling freely, but she’s smiling blissfully. Her ass looks downright raw. I pull her into my arms, turning her around to face me so I can massage the tender skin of her ass while I’m holding her. She leans into my embrace, breathing heavily.

“You were so good, Princess.” I reach around her to retrieve a bottle of that fancy shower oil she got from some shop in the mall. I massage it into her raw ass, and she giggles when my fingers dig into a ticklish spot in her glutes.

She exhales loudly, “That was so fucking good.”

I dip my fingers into her cunt, and I’m genuinely shocked by the sheer amount of wetness that’s gathered there. It’s almost as much as when she squirted. Her cunt walls are twitching slowly but rhythmically around my fingers. “ _Fuck,_ Clarke. Did you come again?”

She closes her eyes and laughs, then nods slowly, “I fucking came...” She takes another deep breath. “While you were beating me…” She laughs again, “What the _fuck…_ ”

I’m trying to keep it together, one hand in her dripping wet cunt while I run the other hand over my face. “Jesus christ, Clarke... Holy fuck.”

She leans away from me and flops herself against the tile wall. She looks totally blissed out. She runs her hands up her sides, caressing her body in long strokes. She plays with her tits, tweaking her nipples, and moans shamelessly. I dip my head down to her neck, sucking bruises into her flesh. When I start thrusting my fingers inside of her, filthy words and obscene sounds start pouring out of her lips.

“OH, fuck yes… Keep fucking my cunt with your fingers… Goddammit Bellamy, your fingers are sinful…”

I join in, egging her on while continuing the ministrations against her skin . “Fuck, Princess, those are such dirty things coming from a pretty little mouth.”

“Maybe that’s because I _am_ dirty. I’m your little slut, who comes when she’s in pain…”

“You’re a painslut, Princess. My good little painslut.”

“That sounds… right… _Painslut_... Holy fuck, I’m a fucking painslut…” She’s breathless, and blissed, and beautiful. “I feel like I should be... upset by that… but it feels fucking _hot_.”

“It is hot, _so_ fucking hot.”

 _“I’m_ hot.”

“Yeah, Princess. You’re so fucking hot. And you’re fucking _wet_.”

I look down at her, and she’s a sight to behold. Eyes closed, pulse throbbing in her neck, breaths coming fast, pinching and pulling her nipples, and biting her lip that way that always gets my dick hard (as if that’s a problem right now). I curl my other arm around her backside, rotating the plug in her ass. She groans, “Oh fuck, Bellamy, fuck!”

“You like that, Princess?”

She nods her head furiously, “Yeah, I _really_ fucking do…"  She smiles again, "Bellamy?”

I pick my head up off of her neck, “Yeah?”

“I need-“ she cuts herself off with her own moan.

“What do you need, Princess?”

“I need you _inside_ me… I need you to fuck me.”

“ _Fuck…_ ”

“But not in here. I want you to fuck me on the bed. I don’t want a concussion when I fall apart again.”

I chuckle, “Safety first, Princess.” I turn the water off and wrap her in a towel in record time. We do a half-assed job of drying each other off, then I throw her over my shoulder before practically racing back into her room. I toss her unceremoniously on the bed, making her laugh out loud. I smirk when her tits bounce. I’m really into those today…

“Hands and knees, Princess.”

She throws me a huge grin before assuming the position. She looks over her shoulder at me, “Like this?”

“Yeah, just like that.” I grip onto her hips, lining myself up with her entrance. I slide the tip of my cock up and down her slit, bumping her clit a few times. Her plug is _right there_ , begging to be played with, but I’m going to hold off on it until she’s closer to climax – the added sensation will be incredible for her. I start to slowly push into her, but it doesn’t take long for her to get impatient. She thrusts herself back onto my cock, and who am I to deny her at this point? I start thrusting into her in a steady rhythm.

" _Fuck,_ Princess, your cunt is so warm and wet around me… You feel so good, so fucking good.” She drops onto her elbows, then eventually just lets her head fall into the mattress.

“Bell, please, fuck me hard!” I snap my hips into her in a brutal rhythm and she’s moaning obscenities into the sheets. I feel her inner walls quivering she’s getting close. I take the opportunity to rotate the plug in her ass a few times, pulling at it slightly.

“Oh, GOD, Bellamy, that’s good! Do that some more!” Her moaning intensifies and whatever words she’s attempting to say become unintelligible. I feel her cunt clench rhythmically around my cock as her orgasm takes her over, and within a few thrusts I’m emptying myself inside of her. I finally pull the plug out of her ass and she releases a surprised whimper.

She flops herself onto her back and I fall next to her. I roll on my side to face her. Her chest is heaving, her tits rising and falling with each breath. She’s got a smile on her face and she’s fucking beautiful. I kiss her temple, then lay kisses along her forehead and cheeks, and finally capture her lips. We share languid kisses until we’re completely spent.

She cups my cheek with her hand, stroking my face with her soft fingers. “That was a lot of fun, Bellamy.”

I chuckle, “Yeah, and it was hot as hell, too.” I lay another quick kiss on her lips. 

I get up to draw the blankets back. She crawls under them and I slide in behind her, taking the 'big spoon' role.  

“Hold me until I fall asleep, okay?”

I kiss her shoulder, “Always, Princess."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So my little 'outline' of ideas for this chapter was: "toys." I would say it kind of got away from me... 
> 
> As always, I love hearing what you guys think. 
> 
> Please, leave KUDOS and/or REVIEWS - they really do motivate me to write more ~


	22. follow me, i'll show you around

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another Alex & Bellamy talk, then the trio catches up with Abby and Marcus.  
> I've sprinkled some sex in there, too ;-)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your feedback! I'm so flattered by the response! 
> 
> I give you smut, but there's nothing shocking or kinky in this chapter. Just Bellamy using his talented mouth to drive Clarke crazy.

It’s 9 AM. I’m up before Clarke (as usual) so I head down to the kitchen for some breakfast. I’m surprised to see that Alex is already awake. She inherited her mother’s sleeping habits, so it’s rare that I see either of them before 10 am on a weekend.

She’s reading something on her tablet but pops her head up when she hears me come into the kitchen. She gives me a bright smile, “Good morning.”

“Good morning, sleepyhead. I didn’t expect you to be awake yet.” I pat the top of her head, making sure to ruffle her hair. It drives her nuts, but it’s practically an expectation now.

“I fell asleep early yesterday, so my body decided to wake up after 12 hours.” She says it so matter-of-factly, as if it’s something I should already know.

I chuckle, “Good point. Did you sleep well?”

She nods, “Yup. Like the dead. I love my noise machine.”

I smirk to myself. _Yeah, so do I…_ “What’s for breakfast?”

She gives me a raised eyebrow, “Uh, that’s your department. I would say blueberry pancakes, but we don’t have blueberries.”

“Have any other requests?”

She jumps up and grabs a newspaper clipping, “Here. Lemon Ricotta Pancakes. I made sure mom got the ingredients at the store this week.” She’s got a big smile.

“What kind of seven-year old likes this shit?”

She laughs, “The same kind who likes tofu.”

“Point taken.” She helps me get all the ingredients out, then takes it upon herself to start mixing the batter. “So what did you need _my_ help with? It looks like you’ve got this covered.”

“You flip the pancakes better than I can.”

“Should we wait for your mom to come down before we put them on the griddle?”

She shakes her head, “The smell of breakfast food will motivate her to get down here. So no, we shouldn’t wait.”

While she’s prepping the batter, I cut up some fruits for a fruit salad and set the table. We share a comfortable silence while we complete our little tasks.

She interrupts the quiet, “Where were you?”

I could feign ignorance and pretend I have no idea what she's talking about, but this kid doesn’t appreciate bullshit. “Are you asking why we hadn’t seen each other for years?”

“Yes.”

I figured this would be something she asked about eventually. “Alex, it’s comp-“

She cuts me off, rolling her eyes “-complicated, I know. That’s what mom told me.”

“Well it’s the truth. There were a lot of things going on all those years ago, and your mom had to keep you safe.”

She nods, but continues anyway. “Safe from Cray-Cray?”

“Cray-Cray?”

“That’s my name for Lexa. Cray-Cray. You know, like Crazy?” She smirks, amused by her own nicknaming skills, but quickly dons a more serious facial expression. “I don’t remember much about her. Mom said she made things hard for us.” I nod my head, not really knowing how to respond. “Mom doesn’t know, but I found files from the court case. I read them, but it doesn’t all make sense. I have questions now.”  

I take a deep breath, not knowing how to appease her without overstepping my bounds. “I think you should tell your mom you found the files, and then ask her your questions. It’s not my place to talk about it. I don’t know all the details, and I don’t think your mom would appreciate me talking about it without her, you know?”

She nods, “Yeah, I guess so. Can you be there when I tell her, then?”                                     

“Um, sure. I don’t know what help I’d be, but I can be there if you want.”  

She shrugs, “Just being there can help. Maybe you will remember things she doesn’t.”

I nod, “Okay. I’ll be there.”

After a few more minutes of silence, Alex pipes up again, “So where were _you_ for the last two years?”

“Here in town, for the most part. But, your mom and I didn’t realize we lived so close to each other. She was very busy with her job, and with you.”

She looks like she’s taking notes in her head. “Was Cray-Cray your friend?”

I laugh, “No, not really. But we shared a lot of the same friends.”

“Like mom?”

“Yeah, like mom.”

“What other friends?”

“Well, you know Lincoln?”

“Octavia’s husband?”

“That’s the one. Well, Lexa and Lincoln grew up together, and she is the one who introduced him to all of us.”

“Who do you mean by _us_?”

“Your mom and I, and Raven, Monty, Miller, Jasper...”

She chirps up, “And Auntie O, of course.”

I chuckle, “Of course.”

“Is she coming for dinner this week?”

I nod my head, “As far as I know, yeah she’ll be here. She hasn’t gotten to see you in a while.”

Alex smirks, “Yeah, I’m pretty sure she misses me.”

“I’d have to agree. She’s excited to see you.”

She gives an approving smirk, “Good. Me too.”

After the griddle is heated, I start the first batch of pancakes. They smell delicious, and I honestly can’t wait to try them. This is not a recipe I’ve heard of, but Clarke’s daughter is something of a ‘foodie’ so I shouldn’t be surprised that she found it. By the time the first batch is finished, Clarke makes her appearance.

Alex gives me a fist-bump. “Totally called it.”

I laugh, “Yes, you did.”

Clarke looks like she’s still half asleep. “Called what, my child?”

Alex has a triumphant smirk on her face, “That food would wake you up.”

Clarke rolls her eyes, “You know me too well, progeny.” She bends down to give Alex a ‘good morning’ hug, and Alex throws her arms around her mom’s neck then jumps up wrap her legs around Clarke’s waist as Clarke straightens back up. Clarke buries her face in Alex’s curls, and their blond curls threaten to tangle around each other. I take the opportunity to ruffle the hair on both ladies and they shoot their heads up simultaneously and shoot me matching glares.

I smirk, “You two make an intimidating pair.” That comment earns me twin eye-rolls and smirks.

Clarke rotates Alex out of the way and leans up for a kiss. I don’t move to deepen it beyond the ‘peck’ it is while Alex is sitting in her arms. As it is, Alex still makes a grossed out ‘bleh’ noise.

“Ugh, you two are gross. Mom, put me down.” Instead, Clarke squeezes her tighter and nuzzles kisses all over Alex’s face. Clarke eventually lets Alex down and exaggeratedly stretches out, complaining that Alex is growing up too fast.

She peeks at the pancakes on the griddle, “God, these smell fucking delicious.”

Alex points to the swear jar, “DOLLAR IN THE JAR!”

Clarke rolls her eyes, “rain check. Credit. Whatever. I need to eat first. And I need coffee… I don’t feel human.” She goes over to the coffee pot and pours a gigantic mug full of her shockingly strong coffee. She showed me how she makes it, explaining it’s how her dad taught her. I think they both had a caffeine problem.

I bring the pancakes to the table where we’re all sitting down.

Clarke takes a bite of a pancake as she’s serving them to everyone. “Mmmm, Is this why I bought lemons _and_ a zester tool?”

Alex gives her a level look, “Well, you should just _have_ the zest tool on hand. And yes.”

Clarke has her mouth full, but she speaks anyway “Whatever. Worth it.”

I chuckle at the muffled words. “Good lord, woman. Were you raised in a barn? Where are your manners?”

Clarke swallows her food then sticks her tongue out at me.

I laugh, “I think your daughter is acting more mature than you this morning.”

Clarke shrugs her shoulders, “That’s the case _every_ morning before I’ve had my coffee.”

Alex interrupts, “Speaking of how mom was raised, Nana called to make sure we’re still coming this afternoon.”

Clarke’s eyes widen, “Shit, I totally forgot about it. Bellamy, you’re invited. It’s just early dinner. I know you haven’t seen my mom in a while, and you totally don’t have to come if you don’t want but you’re-“

I cut her off, “I’d love to come.”

Clarke smiles and looks relieved, “Good. She’s been asking about you for months, since she found out you were back in the picture.   She’s hoping you’ll make it.”

“What exactly is it?”

“Just hanging out there and visiting with her and Marcus. Then dinner around five.”

Alex pipes up, “And I get to ride the horses.”

Clarke nods, “Yes, Alex rides the horses.”

I chuckle at Alex’s enthusiasm, “Sounds like fun.”

I am reminded of a phone call I made to Abby years ago.  

* * *

_Flashback: Summer 2010_

_[Bellamy POV]_

_The line is ringing. I’m not sure if this is something I should be doing – contacting Clarke’s mother. But Clarke is going to be calling Abby in the next few days, and the future of their relationship hinges on how Abby handles that phone call. Clarke desperately wants her mother. That much I know. But, she’s also pessimistic that Abby will come through. Clarke is shell-shocked when it comes to a relationship with Abby. If there is any indication that Abby will disappoint, Clarke will shut the whole thing down._

_I am hesitant to meddle in Clarke’s affairs like this, but this is Clarke’s only remaining parent. Clarke desperately needs her mom, and it’s better late than never. The whole pregnancy, Clarke wanted Abby – the way I imagine any woman would want her mother’s sage advice/wisdom. Somehow, Lexa took it upon herself to fill that role in a way. I don’t trust Lexa, and I can only hope that Abby is the lesser of two evils._

_Someone on the other end picks up, “Hello?” Fuck. I’m still wondering if I should hang up…_

_I clear my throat, “Um, yeah, Hi. Is Abby Griffin available?”_

_“One moment, please. May I tell her who is calling?”_

_“It’s Bellamy Blake.”_

_“Hold on Mr. Blake.”_

_The line is silent for about a minute before Abby comes on the line. “This is Dr. Griffin.”_

_“Um, yeah. This is Bellamy, I don’t know if you remember me, but I’m a friend of Clarke’s.”_

_“I remember.” The irritation in her voice is clear. “If you’re trying to get hold of Clarke, I can’t help you. She hasn’t spoken to me in years.”_

_“No, I know. That’s actually why I’m calling. She may be contacting you soon, and I need you to be prepared for that call.”_

_“I’m not sure I understand what you’re saying.”_

_I think for a moment about how to phrase this. “Clarke needs you.”_

_She’s quiet on her end._

_“I don’t know where you stand in terms of your relationship with Clarke. But, if you have any hope of salvaging a relationship with your daughter, it is imperative that you just… listen.”_

_“Okay… I’m still not sure what you’re telling me.”_

_“When Clarke calls, she’s going to tell you some things. They may upset you. You’ll want to be hurt, and that would be a normal reaction, but you can’t show that. Not during that phone call. Just listen. Don’t pass judgment, don’t make it about you.”_

_“Mr. Blake, I don’t think this is any of your business-“_

_I cut her off, “Mrs. Griffin, with all due respect, I don’t give a shit whether or not you think it’s my business. Clarke is my best friend. Her well-being is my business.”_

_Abby clears her throat but doesn’t say anything._

_“Clarke needs her mother. She’s needed you for a long time, but she’s… gun-shy. I don’t know the full story of what happened before, and I don’t care. What I DO know is that this is an opportunity to reconnect with your daughter – one that you may never get again.”_

_“So why are you calling me?”_

_“Because, if there is any chance that you can be a positive part of Clarke’s life, she needs that. And I don’t want you to fuck it up by being offended. Because if she senses for a second that you aren’t willing to hear her out, she’ll hang up. She needs something good. You’re the only parent she has. She needs her mom. More than she knows.”_

_“So I’m supposed to just be okay with the fact that she’s cut me out of her life for the last five years?”_

_I sigh, “No... I’m not asking you to be ‘okay’ with it. I’m asking you to listen to what she has to say. And you can decide, after you find out what the situation is, if you want to make a further effort to be part of her life.”_

_“What situation?”_

_I pause. “It’s not my place to say. But, I can tell you she feels judged, she’s not going to tell you. She’ll hang up and tell me ‘I told you so,’ and you won’t get the chance to be part of… it.”_

_“It?”_

_“It – the thing I can’t tell you. Look, Clarke has no idea I’m even talking to you. And she’d be livid if she found out.”_

_“And that’s why you can’t tell me? I can keep it to myself, but I’d like to be prepared for whatever it is she’s going to say.” I can hear the annoyance in her voice._

_“There’s no way to be prepared for it. If I told you, you would call her as soon as you hung up on this phone call. Because it’s what any parent would do. And if that happens, she’ll shut you out immediately. She wants to be the one to tell you. And you need to hear it from her, not from me or anyone else.”_

_“Is she in danger?”_

_“No. But she needs a mother.”_

_She’s quiet again._

_“Look, I’ve gotta go. I’m sorry I can’t say any more. I’ll ask you to please not mention to Clarke that I called you. She would be pissed, and I feel like I’m breaking her trust as it is. But like I said, if there’s a possibility that your relationship could be salvaged and you could be a positive part of Clarke’s life, I want to do anything I can to make it happen. Which is how I’m justifying this phone call – I want to keep her from shutting it down before she gives it a chance… Please, just give her a chance to… explain.”_

_She sighs again. A woman of few words…_

_“I think that once you hear what she has to say, you’ll find you have a significant reason to try to work on things. That statement will make more sense soon, I hope. Look, Clarke knows she’s not blameless when it comes to you guys’ relationship breakdown. But like I said, she’s gun-shy. She’s looking for a reason not to pursue it. She’s afraid of getting hurt.”_

_Abby scoffs, “She knows that she’s not the only one hurt.”_

_“I know, which is why I’m calling. Your knee-jerk reaction will be to voice your own hurt feelings, but if you do that right away, she’ll shut you out. She’ll hear you out eventually, I can promise you that, but like I said, she’s gun-shy about this. Just don’t miss out on the chance to be involved in her future. Because I think it will be worth it to both of you.”_

_“Okay.”_

_“Just please listen. No judgment. No voicing hurt feelings right now. Shit is fragile.”_

_“I understand.”_

_“Alright. I really do have to go. Thanks for hearing me out.”_

_“Thank you for calling, Bellamy. Clarke is lucky to have someone who cares like you do.”_

_“Yeah, well… she’s… important.” (Yeah, I’m awkward as fuck when it comes to Clarke) “Take care, Mrs. Griffin.”_

_“Goodbye Bellamy.”_

* * *

We’re driving up the driveway to Abby and Marcus’s enormous home. There’s a stable around the side of the house, and Alex is bouncing up and down in the back seat when she’s pointing to the horses in the paddock.

“Look! There’s Jewel and Piper!”

Clarke narrates, “Marcus is an equine enthusiast. His family has owned horses for a long time. This is actually his family’s estate. Vera Kane, his mother, was a well-known motivational speaker of sorts. Like, she was one of those ‘positive-thoughts-positive-results’ types? She wrote books and shit like that. His dad was a politician and a lawyer, like Marcus.  Although Marcus hasn't quite embraced the politics yet. Both parents passed away awhile back, and Marcus was the sole heir.”

Clarke parks the car, and Alex is running toward the stables at the speed of light. Marcus is brushing down a horse, and when he hears Alex sprinting up to the fence, he slips through the gate to meet her. He greets Alex excitedly, scooping her up in his arms and spinning in a circle with her. Clarke explains, “Marcus is not who I would have considered a ‘kid person’ but he absolutely adores Alex. She calls him ‘Papa Kane,’ and my mom is ‘Nana.’”

I follow Clarke to the house. Abby meets us on the front porch, pulling Clarke into a tight hug. “God, it’s good to see you.”

Clarke hugs her back fiercely, “It’s good to see you, too, mom.” When she pulls away, she introduces me, “Mom, you remember Bellamy?”

Abby has a warm smile when she pulls me into a hug, “Of course. Bellamy, I’m so happy you made it.” She pulls her head back without breaking the hug and puts her hand on my cheek – “Wow…” She has a tear rolling down her cheek, and I’m a bit concerned as to why. Seeing my concern, she just pulls me into another hug. “I’m just… glad. I’m glad you’re here.” I look at Clarke standing behind her mom, and she just shrugs her shoulders with an ‘I don’t know what’s happening’ expression on her face.

I squeeze Abby back, “I’m glad I’m here, too.” She steps back and pats my shoulder.

She laughs, “Okay. Drinks?”

Clarke smiles, “Yes. Drinks.”

We make our way to the back patio where they have an outdoor bar set up. I pour myself a few fingers of scotch while Clarke pours some lemonade into glasses and excuses herself to deliver the beverages to Alex and Marcus. Abby is gazing at her daughter and granddaughter with delight.

She turns to me, “Bellamy. I owe this to you.”

I’m pretty sure my eyebrows are raised so high they’re in my hairline. “Me?”

She nods. She’s hugging herself the way Clarke does when she feels vulnerable. “I wouldn’t be standing here if it weren’t for that phone call.”

An involuntarily smug smirk graces my face, “I don’t recall you being particularly pleased during that conversation.”

She laughs and shakes her head, “No… I was not. I didn’t appreciate a random friend of my daughter’s calling and telling me how to talk to her. Or how to feel.”

“But you listened.”

“I thought about what you said, and the fact that I hadn’t talked to Clarke in years. I had to swallow some of my pride, but I’m glad I did.”

I nod my head, “So am I.”

Abby watches Clarke interact with Alex. She shakes her head, “I wish I had been half the mom Clarke is.”

“Clarke is something special.”

After a minute or so of companionable silence, she speaks again. “I was pleasantly surprised to hear you two were back in contact after being out of touch for so long, Bellamy. I was even more surprised when she explained the context.”

“The context?”

“That you guys reconnected at that munch?”

I nearly choke on my drink. What is it with Griffin women and their propensity for dropping bombs like that while I’m mid-sip? “Uh…”

She smiles, “Relax… I take it Clarke didn’t tell you that I encouraged her to consider looking into the lifestyle?”

After downing the entirety of my drink in one sip, I have to clear my throat, “Ah, no. She left that part out.”

She laughs again, “Well, I’m sorry if I just made everything extremely awkward.”

I shrug my shoulders, deciding to ignore the fact that this is the mother of the woman I’m fucking on the regular. “Don’t worry about it. It’s not something I’m really ashamed of or uncomfortable with. I don’t exactly broadcast it or anything, but it doesn’t make me uncomfortable… You say ‘lifestyle’ like you’re familiar with it?”

She nods, “You could say that. I should probably explain. Clarke had been expressing frustrations with her sex life. Eventually, I told her about the fact that I identify as a Domme in my relationship, and how figuring that out had a huge impact on my satisfaction – sexually and otherwise. Through our conversations on the subject, Clarke came to the conclusion that she identifies more as a sexual submissive. I’m sorry this is probably too much information.”

I shrug again, “It doesn’t bother me, really.”

She smirks, “It doesn’t, does it?”

I shake my head and chuckle, “Not really.”  

She smirks, “Well, I guess there’s very little you don’t know about Clarke… Anyway, I encouraged her a while back to learn more, attend some meetings.”

I furrow my brows, “Are you involved in the community? I haven’t seen you at any meetings or parties. We’re a pretty small community.”

She shakes her head, “No, I haven’t really connected with a group since I moved out here. It’s just Marcus’ and my thing right now. Maybe we’ll get more adventurous later, but for now it’s just been between us. Anyway, when Clarke told me she connected with a Dominant at her second meeting, I was a little concerned. Not everyone is a stereotype, but I’m sure you’re well aware, there are a wide array of Doms out there.”

I nod my head, “That’s true.”

“And some of them are more… controlling than others.” I nod in acknowledgement. “I guess my concern was that she would connect with someone so soon after being introduced to the lifestyle, and this person would be controlling. Worst case scenario, he or she would try to strip her of her identity.”

I shift my feet, “That’s not how I operate.”

Abby puts her hands up in a placating manner, “I know, I’m not saying you are. It was just my concern when she told me about it.”

“I don’t think Clarke would let anyone do that. She wouldn’t let it get that far.”

“I agree. But it would be a poor experience for her, and would probably have turned her off of it entirely.”

“I get that.”

“A few weeks later, she told me she was seeing Bellamy Blake. I didn’t put it together that you were the Dom she met.” She laughs, “She had to spell it out for me.”

I feel a lop-sided grin stretch across my face, “It was a surprise to see her there, honestly.”

“Well, I’m glad it’s you.”

“I am, too. Clarke and I just… work.”

“That’s what she tells me.”

After a few minutes, I’m thinking out loud. “So I guess if I hadn’t made that phone call, Clarke and I wouldn’t be together.”

She smiles, “That’s possible.”

“Well, if the phone call is the reason you two got close enough to discuss her sex life, and that’s the reason she sought out the munch, that’s how she and I were brought back together…”

Clarke chooses this moment to walk back up to the patio. “What did I miss?” Abby and I share a smirk.

I chuckle, “Oh, nothing. Just that your mom is the one who encouraged you to go to that munch.”

Clarke’s face turns beet red and she buries her head in my chest, muttering “Fuck me,” under her breath.

I squeeze my arms around her, “Maybe later, honey.”

She pulls her head back up with a groan, “I’m not going to live this down with either of you, am I?”

Abby and I both shake our heads, “Probably not.” I smile at the woman in my arms, then lean back down to give her a quick kiss. Clarke brings her hand to my cheek and I instinctively deepen the kiss.

It doesn’t last long before Clarke pulls back and clears her throat, “Sorry mom. This one... Can’t get enough.”

Abby rolls her eyes and pats Clarke on the shoulder on her way inside the house, “I’m going to go check on dinner. You two behave.”

Clarke snorts, “We’ll try.” She takes my hand. “Here, I’ll show you around.”

I waggle my eyebrows suggestively, “Oh, you’re gonna show me around, hmm?”

She rolls her eyes, “Not here.” I pinch her ass and she shrieks while bouncing away.

I pull her into my chest, “Whatever you say, Princess.”

Clarke groans, “Bellamy! You know better! Don’t say that! No saying ‘Princess’ here.”

I nip her shoulder, “Sorry… Princess.”

She leans against me, swatting at me with her hand. I see her biting her lower lip, and she’s got some sort of idea bouncing around in her head. “Follow me. I’ll show you the pool house.”

I growl against her neck, “That’s what I’m talking about.”

* * *

 

As we make our way to the pool area, which has an obscene number of fountains, I start whispering the things I want to do to her.

“I’m gonna make you come so hard… All day, I’ve been thinking about how bad I wanna taste you… You taste so fucking good when you come…”

Clarke is trying to get us there as fast as possible without looking too conspicuous. I have a feeling we would probably be failing miserably at that if anyone was around. She twists the handle, “Oh thank god it’s unlocked.” I take the lead, pulling her through the door. As soon as we’re inside, I turn around and grab her hips pulling her into me. She moans and bucks her hips into mine, smirking with satisfaction when she feels how hard I am. I push her into the door, reaching my hand down to lock the handle.

I’m kissing down her neck as I ask, “How much time do you think we have?”

Her voice is already sounding breathless, “Let’s say 20 minutes? I don’t want to be rude.”

I shake my head, “No. We don’t want to be rude. But I really need to make you come right now, Princess.”

She nods frantically, “I support that…”

I look down at her legs, “Princess, did you wear a skirt today on purpose?”

She laughs, “No, actually. But it certainly makes things easier.”

I push her panties down her legs and sneak a finger into her folds. I drop my head to her shoulder, “Jesus fuck, Clarke. I’ve had literally two minutes of whispering dirty things in your ear, and you’re already this wet?”

“ _Mmmm_ , how wet am I? _Please_ , tell me.”

"I'll do you one better, Princess."  I bring my sopping wet fingers up to her lips, painting them with her pussy juices. She brings her tongue to her lip, closing her eyes as she tastes herself on them while I suck my fingers clean. I take the opportunity to lick her lower lip, then our tongues battle for dominance as I kiss her deeply.

She pushes me back, “tick tock, Bell…”

I shake my head, “Pushy, today…”

She smirks, “What are you gonna do about it?”

“Oh, I have a few ideas.”

“Do they involve orgasms?”

“Fuck yes, they do.”

I look at the height of the ceiling and an idea forms in my head. She may think she wants to call the shots, but that’s not gonna happen. She’s at my mercy here. I drop to my knees and yank her panties the rest of the way off. I lay small bites against her abdomen, “Sorry, Princess, the skirt’s gotta go. I want full access to this _delectable cunt_.” She immediately unbuttons the skirt and I hastily tear it down her legs. I lift a knee over my shoulder and turn my head so I can make contact with her gorgeous pussy. “I don’t know if I can hold out until dinner… I’m hungry for your dripping wet cunt, Princess _.”_ This earns me an unabashed moan. I chuckle against her folds as I hoist her other knee on my shoulders. Then I stand up on my feet, leaving her feet nowhere near the ground. _Now_ she’s helpless.

I bring my arms around her thighs and use my fingers to spread her pussy lips open for me. I lick a hard line up her slit, stopping before I reach her clit. Then I spear her sopping hole with my tongue. I gave her a challenge once, telling her that if she read my mind while my face was buried in her cunt, I would make it well worth her while. Ever since, she’s delighted in this little game, shamelessly verbalizing my filthy requests as she performs them for me. It gets me hard as fuck just to think about it. She must see me staring at her tits, because she rips her tank top off. It’s one of those that has a shelf bra, so there’s no bra in the way. Once she ripped her top off, her gorgeous tits are _right there_.

I lift my mouth from her pussy briefly, “Come on, Princess. I want you to play with your tits for me. Pretend your hands are mine. Show what you want.”

She lightly drags her fingernails up the center of each one, and I can see goosebumps break out all over her body from the light touch. _“Fuck,_ just like that. I wanna pretend it’s my hands on those tits.” She opens her eyes and looks down at me through hooded lids. I impale her cunt with my tongue again, writhing it around inside of her, licking furiously at her walls.

“You want me to tweak my nipples?” I nod my head, making sure to bump her clit with my nose. “Should I get my fingers wet?” Affirmative. “Like this?” She brings her fingertips to her mouth and licks them exaggeratedly with her tongue. I nod my head again, this time making a “ _mmm hmm_ ” noise. “Do you think these nipples can get any harder?” She asks as she’s pinching her nipples. I repeat the head-nod with the mmm-hmm. She squeezes her thighs around my head. I run my finger lightly over her clit and she bucks her hips forward with a squeal. I can feel her walls already fluttering around my tongue.

“Okay, Princess. We’re pressed for time, so you have my permission to come as soon as you want.” She nods feverishly. I rub tight fast circles over her clit while I spear her again with my tongue. She’s biting her lip so hard, I’m worried she’ll put a hole in it. After a few minutes of tongue fucking her, she’s about to go over the edge. She pinches and twists her nipples as she cries out and her body goes rigid above me, then the walls of her cunt start rhythmically pulsing around my tongue. I keep tongue fucking her and rubbing her clit through her orgasm until she pushes my face away, overstimulated.

She flings herself back against the wall again. “Oh my god, Bellamy... I fucking love it when you eat me out _.”_ Her chest is heaving, and her tits look amazing as they rise and fall with each breath.

I smirk as I lower her back down. “I love the taste of your cunt when you come in my mouth.”

She chokes out a breath quick breath, “Fuck, Bell… No one makes me come like you do.” I’m still on my knees when she brings her fingers to trace my lips while licking her own lips, “This mouth. This mouth is so fucking perfect. I love your mouth on my pussy… I love it. No one has ever made me come as goddamn hard as you do.”

I can’t help but feel a surge of possessive pride when she says shit like that. “ _Fuck_ , Clarke. I want you to come on my mouth again.”

She shakes her head, “We can do that at home. Right now, I want you to _fuck me.”_ That’s all the motivation I need to stand up and spin her around to face the wall. She moans, “ _Fuck,_ yes. Fuck me from behind, Bell." 

I should have waited to turn her around until after I had her unbuckle my belt, but like I said, we’re in a time crunch… I quickly have my belt unbuckled and my cock free of the confines of my pants, already painfully hard. I stroke it a few times to cover it with pre-come. I bend my knees slightly so I can reach my cock between her legs. I rub the head of my cock along her slit, gathering up more of her copious fluids.

“Come _on,_ Bell. _Fuck_ me. _Fill me up._ ” She’s wiggling her ass, as if that will make me get inside her any faster (it does).

I pick her up by the hips and she reaches a hand down to line my cock up with her entrance. As soon as I’m in position, I thrust up into her _hard_ while yanking her down onto my cock. _“Like that, Princess?”_

A throaty groan escapes her as I impale her, “ _FUCK yes, just like that! More…_ Do it… Again.

I repeat the motion, lifting her up and slamming her back down. I bite down hard on the nape of her neck and suck harshly on the skin between my teeth, leaving my mark on her. Luckily, Clarke comes really quickly this way, because I’m the one doing all the work, and it could get exhausting.

“Come on, Clarke, reach down and play with your clit. Fuck your little clit with your fingers.”

I see her snake a hand in front of her, and when she grazes her clit, I feel her walls clench around my cock, and it feels fucking amazing.

“Oh my fucking god… Oh god, you feel so good inside of me, Bell.”

“You feel so goddamn good around my cock. Make yourself come, baby…”

She nods her head, _“_ Keep talking to me. I want to hear all the dirty things you’re thinking.”

“Fuck, I can’t wait until your cunt is pulsing around my cock. You get my cock so fucking hard, baby. So hard.”

 _“Fuck,_ you’re filling me up, Bell. I wanna come on your cock, I want you to feel me coming apart around you _.”_

 _“_ I want that, too _. Come on, I got you._ Use your fingers – use them to play with your swollen little clit.” She’s just moaning, and I can feel her getting close. “Come on, Clarke. _Come for me. I want to feel it._ ” And she _fucking does_ … I feel her cunt pulsating around my cock, and it’s pulling me right over the edge with her. Three more deep, hard thrusts, and I feel myself swell inside of her as I come deep into her cunt. I keep fucking her through her orgasm until I feel the rhythmic clenches of her pussy slow down. We finally slow down to a stop, breathless and sweating.

I’m leaning against her, pinning her to the wall with my body. She pushes against the wall, signaling me to let up a bit. I stand up and pull her against me, kissing the mark I left on the back of her neck. If she lets her hair back down, nobody will see it. She turns her head and nuzzles her nose into my neck. “Bell, you make the ‘quickie’ feel like so much more than a quick fuck. You tear me apart every fucking time.”

I smirk, “It helps knowing _exactly_ how to make you fall apart at my fingertips, Princess.”

She smiles, “Yeah, I’ll say…”

"Okay, get dressed. We’ve gotta get back in before they come looking for us." She snorts a laugh while she pulls her underwear back on and I hand her the skirt and top. Once we’re presentable again, we exit the pool house.

“How do I look?”

I give her a lop-sided grin, “Well and truly fucked, Clarke.”

She rolls her eyes, “You always say that.”

“It’s always true.” I brush my thumb along the new mark on her neck, and she swats at it.

“Goddammit Bellamy, did you bite me there?”

I chuckle, “You might want to put your hair down…” She shakes her head and sighs as she lets her hair out of the pony tail.

* * *

[Clarke POV]

I lead Bellamy back into the house and we find our way into the parlor, where Mom and Marcus are sitting next to Alex on the piano bench while Alex plays music. She has crazy talent. She doesn’t have anything in front of her to read, and I have yet to put her into lessons, but she still tickles out these gorgeous melodies. She has a natural ear for chord progressions. When I ask her where she gets the ideas, where she learned to play like that. She smiles happily and tells me, “I just feel the music and it comes out.” I take a seat on the couch with Bellamy and listen for a while until a timer goes off in the kitchen.

Abby goes to check on it then announces from the kitchen, “Dinner’s ready everyone!”

Once we’re all seated at the table, we start feasting on a delicious spread, including an eggplant parmesan dish, and garlic knots to die for. “Mom, did you make all this?”

“Marcus and I take cooking classes every week.” I’m shocked, since I never remember seeing her cook, let alone proficiently.

I feel a broad smile across my cheeks. “Good for you. It’s delicious.”

Bellamy speaks up, “So, Abby. How did you and Marcus meet?”

A snort escapes me before I can stop it. Mom, Marcus, and I all share a look and all three of us share a laugh.

Mom interrupts. “Well, it’s a bit of a convoluted story. Marcus is actually a named partner at Findlay, Kane & Associates.”

Bellamy raises an eyebrow, “Findlay like Nate Findlay?”

Alex snickers, “Yup, like my dad and my grandpa.”

Bellamy is putting it together, “So, you the attorneys who were-”

I finish the sentence, “Nate’s attorneys, yes.”

Mom continues, “Marcus and I ended up running into each other at a charity function about a year after the case was settled.” 

Marcus tells the next part, “I asked Abby out to dinner before either of us realized who the other was.”

Abby interrupts, “Once I connected those dots, I had a talk with Clarke before the relationship went any further.”

I chip in, “Given how amicable the settlement was, I had no problem with it. Marcus actually had zero involvement with our case. The only hiccup might have been if Nate had a problem with it. Thankfully, the Findlays didn’t object.” I give my mom a small smile, “Mom’s happy, and she deserves that.”

Then Marcus and mom hold each other’s hands and smile sweetly at each other.

Alex wrinkles her nose, “Gross.” She always has something to say about PDA… The table shares a laugh. The rest of dinner goes smoothly. Alex’s antics keep us all entertained until it’s time to go.

* * *

Bellamy and I are holding hands on the drive back. “Thanks for coming today, Bell.”

He squeezes my hand, “I’m glad I came.”

“You and my mom seemed to be getting along well.”

“We share a common interest or two.”

I raise an eyebrow, “And those would be?”

“Do I really have to spell it out, Clarke?”

“Um, Maybe?”

He rolls his eyes, “You, Clarke. We both care about you and Alex.”

I give him a laugh, “I know. I was fucking with you, Bell.” I bring his hand up to my lips and kiss his fingers. “I love you.”

“I love you, Clarke.”  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think Bellamy should always, always eat Clarke out... 
> 
> As always, REVIEWS motivate me to get writing, so it would be awesome if you took a few minutes to drop me a line! :-) 
> 
> KUDOS make me happy!


	23. bring our toys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke is out of town... So she and Bellamy make the most of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is a thousand percent desperate dirty talk. We're talking LIBERAL use of the word "fuck" in its various forms 
> 
> Trigger warning: There's a bit of exhibitionism and voyeurism in this chapter. 
> 
> I am absolutely FLOORED by the lovely comments you guys leave. I was thinking about taking a break for a week but I was filled with all kinds of ideas after reading some of those comments and managed to get this one out overnight. 
> 
> So keep the KUDOS and REVIEWS coming!!!

Bellamy and I haven't seen each other in two days.  I am at a medical conference out of state, and I miss him like crazy.  Insatiable as ever, we have kept each other on edge with tortuously teasing texts...

  
_**I fucking miss you** _

  
_**I miss you too.**_  
_**I'll be home in three days.** _

  
_**So what you're saying is**_  
_**I have to wait three entire days to fuck you?** _

  
_**Maybe not three ENTIRE days.**_  
_**We can always find somewhere**_  
_**for you to take me**_  
_**when you pick me up from the airport.** _

  
_**I'm looking at some of our pics**_  
_**from the first time I tied you** _

  
_**When you taught me how to suck your cock?** _

  
_**Ha. Taught you?**_  
_**You're a fucking natural.** _

  
_**I'm blushing** _

  
_**I'm imagining us doing some terribly naughty things** _

  
_**That's nothing new** _

  
_**No it isn't**_  
_**princess. you're fucking beautiful** _

  
_**God, I miss you.** _

  
_**How much?**_  
_**Be descriptive** _

  
_**Challenge accepted**_  
_**So keep this in mind:**_  
_**Alex is with Nate until Monday.**_  
_**Which means...**_  
_**Once I get back Friday (flight lands at 12:40p)**_  
_**I want you to take me home**_  
_**And have your way with me**_  
_**All**_  
_**Fucking**_  
_**Weekend** _

  
_**Clarke, you're not leaving my fucking bed**_  
_**until Monday morning** _

  
_**So Friday at the airport**_  
_**You need to park the car in the garage**_  
_**Because you're going to meet me at baggage claim**_  
_**Drag me into one of the private bathrooms** _

  
_**I know which ones** _

  
_**And fuck me**_  
_**Fuck me hard and fast** _

  
_**I will gladly fulfill that wish** _

  
_**As soon as you close and lock the door**_  
_**You'll spin me around**_  
_**and shove me into the nearest wall** _

  
_**Face to the wall, Princess** _

  
_**Just how I like it** _

  
_**I know you do**_  
_**And its so fucking hot**_  
_**Thank fuck I'm at home right now**_  
_**Because I'm rock hard already** _

  
_**Baby, if you hold on ten more minutes**_  
_**This session will be over**_  
_**And I'll talk you off** _

  
_**Can't wait to hear your voice in my ear**_  
_**Telling me your filthy fantasies**_  
_**I want you to go to your hotel room**_  
_**And we're going to come together** _

_**Is that an order?** _

_**What do you think, Princess?** _

_**It's an order, sir.** _

_**Good girl.** _

**_Goddammit._ **  
**_I can hear your voice in my head_ **  
**_telling me what a good girl I am_ **  
**_and I'm dripping for you_ **

**_I already know_ **

_**Eight more minutes, baby** _

_***[attachment: picture]**_  
_**me right now.** _

  
I should have known better than to open a photo sent from Bellamy during a string of sexts... I almost dropped my phone when the file opened up and I was graced with the image of Bellamy's rock hard cock, his hand wrapped casually around the base... I could almost taste the velvety flesh on my tongue.

I quietly gather my things and duck out of the lecture as politely as possible.  I don't think anyone gave a shit.  If they did, I didn't notice... As soon as I get out the doors, I hit "send" on Bellamy's phone number.  He picks up so quickly, it didn't even _ring_ on my end.  

His voice is graveled and stern, "About fucking time, Princess..."  I wonder if I could come from just listening to his voice...  

"Oh my _god_ that was unfair!"  I hear a low chuckle.  "Just you wait until the next time you're in the middle of a quiet meeting with a group of _your_ peers..."  

"I look forward to it."  I roll my eyes.  "Where are you right now, Princess?"

"Waiting on the elevator so I can go up to my room.  I bolted out of that session as soon as I opened that picture."

"Picture?"  His voice is coy... "Tell me about it.  What did it make you feel?  What did you think of?"

I mumble, "Bell, I'm about to get into a public fucking elevator."

"Are there kids around?"  I check around.  

"Uh, no.  No kids.  Why?"  _Oh, I know where he's going with this..._

"Because you're going to prove to me just how dirty your mind is.  And I don't give a fuck who is around to hear it."  The unspoken exception is if there are children in the vicinity, and thankfully we both know it.  

I groan.  There's nobody in my immediate vicinity, but I may have accidentally caught the attention of a guy at the bar... "When I opened the picture..."

"Go on.  Tell me."  I pause because a pair of old ladies is walking by.  "That's an order, Princess.  Now be a good girl for me and obey..."

This time my groan definitely gets a few people's attention.  I lean against the far wall of the elevator bay, hoping the marble floors don't echo too much.  I close my eyes as I start to speak softly. He, claims my voice takes on a specific timbre when I talk him off.  I didn't realize it, and I can't really reproduce it on command.  It just _happens_ when I'm horny and talking to Bellamy (so, often...).

" _Fuck_ , Princess... you know I could come just listening to your voice.  Your fuck-me voice."  

"I was sitting in the main ballroom listening to a god-awful speaker, texting all those dirty things to you..."

"Like that, Clarke - that's it.  Like _smooth gravel_.  That voice is the embodiment of sex, Princess.  Keep talking."

"When the picture of your beautiful cock opened up onto my screen, the first thing I wanted to do was lick it."  

"The screen?"

"Well, physically, yes.  That's what I almost licked... But I know that cock _so well_...  _So, so well._..  I saw it and instantly I could _taste_ you in my mouth... My tongue started fluttering automatically.  On its own.  It's like my tongue knows exactly what it's supposed to do... Like muscle memory its favorite thing... your gorgeous cock, babe."

"Fucking hell, Princess... I wonder how many people just heard that?"  My eyes shoot open and I feel myself blush as I take a look around.  I completely fucking forgot where I was.  If the people on the other side of the elevator bay heard anything, they're making no indication of it.  Two successive "Ding" sounds go off.  

"Did two elevators just show up?"

"Yes."

"Perfect.  Get into the one with fewer people."  

"Yes, Sir."  I get a little thrill out of hearing him groan with satisfaction at hearing me call him by his title.

"Are you wearing one of your skirts?

"Of course.  The dress code is Business-Professional."

"Perfect."  _Fuck, I already know what he's going to make me do..._

The elevator car I enter has one other person.  "How many people are with you?"

"Just one."

"What floor is your room on?"

"28th." 

He continues his line of questioning.  "What floor is the other person going to?"

"Fourth."

"Lucky for you, you'll have 24 floors to take your panties off."

"Fuck! These are glass elevators.  They overlook the atrium!"

"Uh oh... I guess you shouldn't draw too much attention to yourself, then..."

"Yes, Sir."  The other passenger exits the elevator when we get to the fourth floor.  Relieved, I start to quickly but casually slip my panties down my hips.  

"Which pair are you wearing?"

"Black lace... They made me think of you."

"Are you taking them off for me?"

"Yes."

"You get extra points if you send me a picture of you completing your task like a good girl.  Describe what is happening while you take the picture."  

"Yes, Sir.  I have my black lace panties a little more halfway down my legs, just below my knees and I'm snapping a photo right now."  I hear a shutter sound.  "I'm loving the multitasking abilities of this phone..."

"Keep going.  Tell me about the photo you just took."  

"In the background, you can see that I'm wearing my black pumps.  They add four inches of height while still looking professional.  And my legs look fucking amazing in them."  

"Tell me about your panties, Princess."

I clear my throat.  "They're very wet, sir."  

"Good girl."

My own voice sounds like something between a grumble and a sigh... "Fuck, and now my thighs are all wet."

He laughs.  "This could get embarrassing for you, Princess..."  I'm cursing Bellamy right now, as I feel the elevator start to slow down around the 19th floor.  Fuck.  I make a split second decision.  I could hurry to pull my underwear back up, but somehow I feel like it would disappoint Bellamy, and myself.  Instead I quickly kick them the rest of the way off.  Before I can bend down to pick them up, the doors start to open, so I drop my handbag on top of them instead.

The gentleman entering the elevator looks concerned that I so abruptly dropped my handbag and starts to bend down to pick it up for me, thinking the drop was accidental (it _was_ abrupt...).  I shriek, "No!"  He jumps backward, alarmed by my outburst.  "I'm sorry, I'm sorry - I didn't mean to snap at you.  I wasn't sure what you were doing, that's all."  He's still looking at me like I'm on drugs, so I figure it can't get any worse.  As he leans back down to offer to pick it up again, I blurt out, "Oh, god - _no_! don't touch that, there are... bodily fluids on the handles."  His face is branded with a unique strain of _horrified_.  "It's the Obstetrics medical conference downstairs - there was an accident during a demonstration."  

Bellamy fucking  _howls_ with laughter in my ear and I could kill him right now... The gentleman hastily exits the elevator on the next floor.  I can't help but laugh with Bellamy at the absolute absurdity of the scene.  "Bell, you are a goddamn shit heel, you know that?"  He can hear the lack of heat behind my voice, and we're laughing so hard my sides are hurting.  

Then as quickly as it was lost, the mood is back.  "Okay, Princess. Enough fun.  Time to focus again."

"Yes, Sir."  After I pick up the lacy garment and stash it in my bag (which technically does have traces of my own juices on the handles now), I straighten up my spine and imagine Bellamy's palms rubbing briskly up and down my arms.  His way of bringing me into the moment.  "Okay, sir.  I'm focused.  What next?"  

"How long until you get to your floor?"  The elevator bell dings.

"I just arrived."

"Good.  Start walking to your room.  You're wearing one of your button-downs, right?"  _I know why he's asking that... Shit._

"Yes, Sir I am."

"Do you have a camisole on underneath?"

"Not this time.  The material was too thick so a cami would have been too stifling."  

"Princess, tell me the color of your bra?"

"Want to guess?"

"I already know.  The black lace that matches your wet panties."

A moan escapes me... "That's the one."

"Can you guess what my next order is?"

"I need to unbutton my top?"  Before he even answers,  I've unbuttoned and un-tucked my blouse in record time.  I casually let it slip open, waiting for the elevator doors to finish closing before letting it fall down my back.  I catch it by the sleeve, then toss it onto a narrow accent table against the wall across from the elevators.  I take a look in the mirror above said table, and I'm so incredibly turned on by my reflection.

"Good girl.  You can read my goddamn mind..."  I pull my phone away from my ear just briefly so I can snap another picture.  In the frame, I see my bra--covered tits (which look magnificent in this bra), and my top haphazardly and precariously dangling from the accent table.  To top it off are some serious fuck-me eyes.  To the point where I want to fuck the slut in that reflection.  

I'm sounding pretty pathetically breathless now.  "Baby, we just happen to be the same breed of depraved..."

"Fucking right we are."

"Are you still hard, Sir?"

"What do you think, Princess?"

"I know you are."

"Goddamn right.  Is your shirt unbuttoned?"  He tries to conceal his excitement, but the facade crumbles as this little game goes on.  I've upped the ante already and I'm about to let him know.

"It's been unbuttoned and open since before I stepped off the elevator." 

That must have stunned him because he's silent for a moment.  I continue, knowing exactly what will send him over the edge.  My voice is a fine mix of 'fuck me' and breathless.  "It was getting really warm, so I went ahead and took my top off and left it on the little table next to the elevators.  Maybe some other girl will want it.  I kind of hated the thing anyway."  

I hear him sigh, but he doesn't say anything, which momentarily freaks me out a bit.  "Bell? Is everything okay?"

He clears his throat, "Fuck, Princess... Yeah.  Everything is really, really good."  I feel a satisfied smirk grace my features... I have no fucking idea what has taken me over, but I'm getting an unbelievable rush from this little activity.  

"Is it okay if I unhook my bra before I get to the door?"

"Goddammit, Princess.  I'm about to come and I'm not even touching myself."  

I'm at the door when he says that, and I have to take a moment to straighten my thoughts before I can retrieve the key card to open the damn thing.  I lean my forehead against the cool surface of the door, letting the pads of my fingers lightly caress the shiny lacquer-like finish.  Man, they went all out for the doors on this floor...  

"Bellamy?"  

He takes a breath, "Yeah, Princess?"

"I'm going to let my bra fall down my arms before I walk in my door."

He groans.  "Fuck, Clarke.  Holy fuck."

Where the hell did this exhibitionist streak come from?  I mean, it's not like I'm fucking someone onstage or anything, but this is so out of character for me... I think.

As I retrieve the key card out of my purse, I feel my bra straps fall down my shoulders, and as the lacy fabric brushes my arms, goosebumps break out all over my body.  I feel a surge of wetness between my thighs when I see my lace bra nonchalantly piled in front of my pumps.  My nipples are hard like pebbles by a frozen lake, which is the image that floods my mind when I gently press them to the cold, hard surface of the door.  My breath hitches and a shiver runs down my spine while I slip the key card into the slot.  I turn the handle and push a little bit, but I'm not ready to let go just yet.

I think this warrants another picture.  I hold it up for a selfie, but I don't angle my head to look at the camera.  Instead, I gently lean my forehead against the door and close my eyes.  I'm hoping the image captures how "in the moment" I really am.  Sure, I have the presence of mind to snap a photo, but it's part of the game.  I snap it and review it quickly so I can get through the door and into the safety of my locked-up room.  I suddenly realize that a 30-something-year old man, standing about 15 feet away with his luggage in hand (I assume he's checking out) is staring at me, gaping at the sight in front of him.  I see his massive erection, but I honestly couldn't give two fucks, well, except for the fact that it's pretty fucking flattering.  To make sure he realizes I'm not available, I make sure to talk very obviously to Bellamy, patiently waiting for me to continue.  

"Baby, I've got my tits out and I'm in the hallway.  I can't wait til you get here to fuck my brains out..."  No, Bell doesn't have plans to come here, but I don't want this guy thinking I'll be here alone.  "Oh, thank god.  I can hold out a few minutes until you get up here..."  I sigh and give the guy behind me a slight but dismissive smile.  He looks slightly terrified at the possibility of being caught ogling a guy's girlfriend...  I groan shamelessly, "Oh my fucking god, Bellamy.  Someone just saw me..." Bellamy groans but doesn't verbalize anything.  "No, baby... don't worry.  He knows better than to do more than just look..."  The guy nods, slack-jawed.  "Yeah, I'll see you in a minute."  Mr. Voyeur bolts to the elevators at the speed of light and within seconds he's gone.

I hear Bellamy release a shuttering breath on the other end of the line.  I finally push the door open and step over my bra, leaving it parked just outside the doorway.  I turn around and look at it, and in an moment of odd inspiration, I snap another photo.  I am about to close the door and leave the bra, but I remember that the damn thing cost over $300 and along with the $150 matching panties, it's part of my favorite set.  What can I say? I got an obscene signing bonus when I joined the Private Practice last month, so I decided to treat myself to some lingerie that wasn't from Target...

I need to catch my breath a second and I really want to send Bellamy the photos.  "Hey... Bell?"

He clears his throat, "Hmm?"

"Watch your texts... I'm gonna send you some pics of what I've been up to since we've been on the phone... Okay?"  I feel _high_...

"Clarke, you're fucking _killing_ me..."

"Umm, I'm... sorry?"

"God, no _don't_ be sorry.  You're _unbelievably hot_.  If I could fuck you through the phone, I absolutely would. _"_

"Hold that thought.  I love you like fucking crazy, Bell.  I'm sending you the pics."

"Okay."

I send him the pictures: my lace underwear lightly binding both of my legs together just below the knee... The picture of me in just my bra with my shirt discarded and hanging off the table.  The next one is the one where my tits are exposed and rock hard nipples.  Lastly, the image of my bra on the floor in the doorway.

After a few seconds, he tells me he got them.  I flop myself back onto the bed and close my eyes.  My hands start to wander to my nipples, practically of their own accord.  I'm tweaking them and moaning without sparing a second thought to how thin or thick the walls may be.  

I hear a strangled moan, "Clarke.  Fuck.  Fucking _fuck_."  

I can't fight the smug satisfaction I feel spreading across my face at the choked sound of his grunts.  His breaths come heavy, "Princess, while I was swiping through those breathtaking photos, I accidentally brushed my hand across the tip of my cock, and I fucking _came_.  Like harder than I've come in a long fucking time.  Without even stroking my shaft again.  Just a light touch and my cock fucking exploded.  There is a _porn-worthy_ amount of my come that's dripping down my cock... some of it landed on my thigh.  And fuck, there's some on my fucking chest.  By my fucking collarbones... Goddammit Clarke.  _This_ is what you do to me.  This is one hundred percent _you_."  

"Bell?"

"Yeah, Princess."

"Two things.  First, you need to take a picture of what you just described to me.  And I'm going to fuck myself until I'm coming like a whore while I look at it..."

He groans, "Consider it done... my hungry slut."  

"Fuck, I absolutely love it when you call me that... a _slut_..."

"You're _my_ slut."

"I could never forget that..."

"What's the second thing, Princess?"

"Get on the fucking computer and find the soonest flight here.  I'll pay for it.  I don't give a fuck what it costs.  I want you here by _tonight_."  I don't care if I have to pay thousands to get him here.  I fucking _need_ him.

"Oh, thank fuck.  I can't go another night without you.  Especially after _this_."

"Oh, and Bellamy?"

"Yeah, Princess?"

"Bring our toys."

"As you wish, Princess."  

I wait for him to send that picture.  When it finally shows up, I nearly climax just looking at it.  His cock is dripping with an obscene, unprecedented amount of his beautiful pearlescent come... I can see some on his thigh, just like he described.  I fucking _lick_ the screen, desperately craving it.  I take the time to start fucking myself with my fingers while he voices all kinds of lewd encouragements in my ear.  I can't get my fingers as deep as Bellamy can get his, but it's better than nothing.  Then, within _seconds_ of circling my already-throbbing clit, I'm falling apart with an unabashed scream while he's telling me what a good girl I am... 

Yeah, he needs to get here _tonight_.  I need him inside me...  Over me...  On me...  Under me...  Behind me...  I fucking need him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had originally planned on doing a non-smut chapter to catch up with Clarke & Bellamy's friends, but then this happened...
> 
> Again, COMMENTS and KUDOS are awesome!!! Thank you all!


	24. really, bellamy? oops?!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke + Bellamy + two days apart = Reunion sex  
> These guys get just a bit desperate after some time away...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YOU ARE ALL SO LOVELY!  
> I really appreciate all the wonderful reviews  
> Sorry it took so long to get this out - the length of this "reunion sex" chapter was getting WAY out of control, so I've split it into two parts.  
> I'm still working on the second part.  
> *Triggers* - There is discussion of rope bondage

Bellamy POV

I about lost my shit this evening. I seriously have the hottest fucking girlfriend. She outdoes herself all the damn time. Like tonight. Clarke is no prude, but I never thought I would see the day where she brazenly walked down a hallway in a public place, methodically stripping… The pictures did me in. Having been on the phone with her, knowing exactly what sounds she was making when each one happened… I didn’t even ask her to take photos beyond that first one in the elevator. Fuck… the elevator pic. I don’t know if she realizes just _how fucking soaked_ those sinful black lace panties were. The way she handled the unexpected intruder on her little strip task was priceless.

She set up the photos so _perfectly_. The way her sexy-as-fuck black heels are in the background – the toes are pointed slightly inward, as if she’s shy and embarrassed, and for some reason that drives me wild. It’s no secret that “Sexually Helpless Clarke” is one of my favorite fucking things... In that picture, I could practically see her knees shaking. I see the picture and remember the sound of her panicked breathing when the elevator was slowing down too early for her floor. It was a rush just to _listen_ to…

The stark difference between her vulnerability in the elevator photo and the poised confidence exuded in the second photo was breathtaking. I can see the phone in her hands, and she’s staring directly into the lens in the mirror. And her face just _embodies_ the concept of fucking. Not sex. Not making love. Fucking. Rough, quick, dirty. This went beyond her “fuck me” eyes into something far more reckless and wild. If my cock hadn’t been rock hard already, that face would have done me in. Her tits look fucking amazing in that bra of hers, but that’s nothing new. And then there’s something about the way her shirt is so carelessly tossed onto the table. Like whoever flung it there didn’t give two shits about the fact that it was off her body, unfazed by the fact that she was so brazenly exposed... And judging by that facial expression, she really _wasn’t_ concerned.

The next photo she sent was a sensual hurricane. The expression on her face: teetering on the edge of ecstasy. My guess would be that it was enormously difficult to snap that photo. She looks so lost in the sensations and emotions. I see the pale pink of her erect nipples – the shade matches her bare lips perfectly. The contrast between the delicate color and the ice-like black surface of the door is glaring and incredibly arousing. Like the coldness of the door is seeping onto the sensitive peaks of her tits, and she’s just _basking_ in the sensation.

The final photo is the ultimate in “fuck you, propriety.” Her black lace bra, the general purpose of which is to keep her gorgeous tits “under control,” is in a sad heap in the doorway. It’s practically symbolic…

I’m shifting in my seat, my rock hard cock jutting out from my lap, and my arm accidentally brushes over the highly sensitive tip. I fucking _explode_. Without warning. It’s the oddest, nearly unnerving, sensation: a sudden orgasm that overwhelms me, completely out of my control.

Once I regain some semblance of control, I call Clarke back and she makes demands that speak directly to our _insatiable_ sex drive.

I book a flight that leaves in three hours, so I pack up and head to the airport. She offered to pick me up from the airport, but I would rather she rest for now. She’ll need the energy. She told the front desk to provide me with a key to the room when I arrived.

While I’m at the airport, Clarke and I engage in yet another tortuously suggestive text exchange…

**_I’m at the airport now_ **

**_Good.  
I need you so bad right now, Bell. _ **

**_Tell me what you need, Princess_ **

**_I need you inside of me_ **

**_You need what inside of you?_ **

**_I need your cock inside of me…_ **

**_Fuck, Princess…  
You have no idea how much I’ve missed you_ **

**_I think I do, actually ;)_ **

**_Good point_ **

**_Tell me what you want to do to me_ **

**_Fuck, Clarke.  
What DON’T I want to do with you?_ **

**_Mmm  
Your turn to be specific_ **

**_My turn to say “challenge accepted” then?_ **

**_Bingo_ **

**_So this could go one of two ways_ **

**_How so?_ **

**_Depending on if you’re asleep or not_ **

**_Mmm. Please elaborate…  
First scenario: I’m asleep_ **

**_If you’re asleep…_ **  
**_Under the sheets_ **  
**_You’ll be completely naked_ **  
**_Waiting for me to use you_ **  
**_But, I’m conflicted on what to do after_ **

**_What do you mean?_ **

_**Should I feast on your pussy** _  
_**until you wake up** _  
_**Writhing in ecstasy?** _  
_**Or fuck you into consciousness?** _  
_**Again, writhing in ecstasy…** _

**_Mmmmm  
Decisions, decisions_ **

**_Preference?_ **

_**Well, you usually eat me out** _  
_**And I love it. So fucking much, babe.** _  
_**But I really like it when I wake up** _  
_**To your cock filling me up** _

_**Fuck you into consciousness, it is ;)** _

_**Perfect.** _  
_**What if I’m awake?** _  
_**(Hint: I will be)** _  
_**(As much as I love to wake up to fuck,** _  
_**I am WAY too worked up to get any sleep)** _

_**Fuck, the possibilities are endless…** _  
_**In that case,** _  
_**When I get there** _  
_**I want you undressed** _  
_**Obediently waiting for me** _

_**I’m already naked** _

_**Good girl** _

_**Mmmm** _

_**You know the effect those words have** _

_**Yes I do  
I want you all wet and ready for me ** _

_**You think I’m not already dripping wet?** _

_**I know you are  
I just wanted to hear you say it ** _

_**So I’m naked and dripping wet  
What’s next? ** _

_**I brought ropes.  
I’m still deciding what ties I want to do ** _

_**Mmmmmm** _

_**Do I want to tie your arms up?  
So you can’t touch yourself? ** _

_**Cruel!** _

_**You know I’d take care of you, Princess** _

_**You always do** _

_**I could do a Futomomo** _

_**What’s that one?** _

_**Frog tie** _  
_**I’d bind your ankles to your thigh** _  
_**Not completely restrictive** _  
_**I’d combine it with Ushiro Takatekote for your arms** _

_**Describe it** _

_**Box tie** _  
_**I bind your arms behind your back** _  
_**Keeping them in the position** _  
_**Where your hands grasp your forearms** _  
_**It also serves as a breast binding** _

**I like it**  
So with the leg ties  
Can I open my legs if they’re tied that way?

 _**Oh yes you can** _  
_**Wide open** _  
_**In fact, I can make it hard to close them** _  
_**Your cunt would be completely exposed** _  
_**To my hungry gaze** _  
_**I probably couldn’t resist tasting it** _  
_**So I’d eat you out like it was my last fucking meal** _

_**Haha – “fucking” meal  
I like that idea ** _

_**Good** _  
_**After I’m done eating you out** _  
_**I might turn you over** _  
_**Put you in knees-and-shoulders** _  
_**And fuck you into the mattress** _

_**Hell yes** _

_**You’d be so fucking helpless** _

_**And completely at your mercy?** _

_**You’d turn your head to the side** _  
_**So you could breathe** _  
_**While I drilled my cock** _  
_**Into your dripping wet cunt** _

_**God, that sounds hot** _

_**I’d be angled just right** _  
_**To be hitting your g-spot** _  
_**Without mercy** _  
_**You’d be begging to come** _

_**Would you let me?** _

_**Not until you beg appropriately** _  
_**You’ll be so close to the edge…** _  
_**But you won’t be allowed to come** _

_**Cruel** _

_**Blissfully cruel** _  
_**You’ll love/hate every goddamn minute** _  
_**You’re getting wetter by the second** _

_**Goddamn** _

_**I want you to start touching yourself now** _

_**This is where I pretend** _  
_**That I haven’t been touching myself** _  
_**This whole time** _

_**You bad girl** _

_**Mmmm I can be...** _

_**How are you texting, then?** _

_**Speech-to-text.** _

_**That’s why your replies are taking forever?** _

_**Yes** _

_**Well, then…  
Keep touching yourself ** _

_**K** _

_**Slip a finger in.  
No. Two fingers. ** _

_**They’re in** _

_**Move them inside of you  
Fuck yourself with your pretty fingers ** _

_**God I’m close** _

_**Okay. Stop.** _

_**That’s bullshit.** _

_**Be nice, Princess  
Or I won’t let you come at all ** _

_**I’ll be nice, Sir.** _

_**Good girl  
You can touch yourself again ** _

_**But if I do, I’ll come** _

**_You’d better not, Princess_ **  
**_You’re strong._ **  
**_Touch yourself, but don’t come_ **

_**Oh god…** _

_**You’re feeling good…** _  
_**You feel your orgasm building again** _  
_**You want to come so bad** _  
_**But you can’t, because** _  
_**I haven’t given you permission** _

_**Please** _

_**Not yet, Princess  
Are you playing with your clit? ** _

_**-No it’s too much** _

**I know you can do it.**  
_**Play with your clit, Princess**_  
_**But don’t come**_

_**This is mean** _

_**Deliciously mean** _

_**From now on, no texting back** _

_**Just read what I write.** _

_**Concentrate, and follow my directions:** _

_**Keep touching your clit** _

_**Feels good, doesn’t it…** _

_**Now, take your fingers out of your cunt** _

_**Play with your tits with your wet fingers** _

_**Don’t come yet** _

_**Now put your fingers in your mouth** _

_**You can taste yourself** _

_**Suck your fingers clean** _

_**You should still be playing with your clit** _

_**I know you want to come so bad,** _

_**But you can’t, baby. Not yet.** _

_**Keep yourself on the edge** _

_**Your fingers should be clean now** _

_**Put them back into your cunt** _

_**And fuck yourself with them** _

_**Good girl…** _

_**I bet you’re close now…** _

_**To answer the question you haven’t asked yet,** _

_**No. You still can’t come, Princess** _

_**Not until I say so.** _

_**Oops** _

_**They’re making us turn off all the electronics** _

_****See you soon, Princess.** ** _

* * *

Clarke POV

That fucking fucker. No fucking way did he just leave me hanging like this by accident. “Oops.” Really, Bell? “OOPS?” I could tell him to screw his rules. I could take care of myself and he’d never know any better. But he would. He’d be able to tell. Plus, it’ll be _so_ worth the wait once he takes care of me… He wants me ragged, wrecked, and desperate. And that’s what he’ll get. I call down to the front desk to amend my request about giving Bellamy the key. I tell them that once he does arrive, they need to call me. They can still give him the key, they just need to tell me when he arrives. I’m not sure what I’ll do when he gets here, but a few minutes of lead time might be nice.

I sit down to try and watch some TV for a few hours, but every channel has something that reminds me of my current state of sexual frustration. Viagra and Cialis commercials, even Animal Planet is airing some program about breeding dolphins or something. Eventually, I decide to draw a bath. This suite has a ridiculous Jacuzzi tub, so I might as well use it. About an hour later, I’m wrinkled like a prune and in a state of lavender-scented bliss.

After I'm all dried-off and the "prune" look has dissipated, I hear the room phone ring. I answer it, and it’s the front desk telling me that Mr. Blake arrived and is heading up now. I still haven’t decided what I want to do when he gets here. I’m torn. I want to jump his bones because _fuck_ I need an orgasm. Another part of me wants to be cruel and lock the deadbolt for like 15 minutes and make him wait out there. But, the biggest part of me wants to do exactly as he asked: obediently wait for him in nothing but my birthday suit. I untie my robe and let it slip down my arms, shivering as it falls to the floor and exposes my body to the cool room air.

I hear the keycard lock beep down the hall, and I know Bellamy is on the other side of the door. I turn around and stand at the foot of the bed, waiting for him to round the corner into the bedroom. I hear him curse a few times as he drops something on his way inside from the hallway and I cover my mouth to stifle a giggle.

Bellamy finally makes his appearance, and when I see him standing there, looking as teased and wound-up as I feel, my irritation lessens a bit. His predatory gaze takes over his face, making my heart race. My breaths come in short pants. He drops the bags but stands still. His pupils are blown so wide, I can barely see his irises, and I’m sure mine are no different. I’m about to snap if he doesn’t do something soon… Eventually I break the silence.

“Really?!?! ‘ _Oops_ ,’ Bellamy?!” He smirks and starts walking toward me. I continue my tirade, clearly fueled by the sexual frustration I’ve had to endure for the last several hours. “What the _shit_ was that? I have been hanging here for _hours_!”

He stops in front of me, his frame towering over mine. His voice is low and graveled. Given how wound up I am, I’m surprised I didn’t explode just hearing it. “Did you come, Princess?”

I shake my head, speaking more calmly now, “No, Sir. You didn’t give me permission.”

He cups my face in his hands and caresses my cheeks with his thumbs. He searches my eyes with his own. “You didn’t, did you?” I shake my head again. “That’s my good girl.”

I smile, “Thank you, Sir.”

He nods. His gentle grip on my cheeks tightens oh-so-slightly when he hears me call him ‘Sir.’ “You deserve a reward, don’t you?”

“I would like that very much, Sir”

"Yeah you would." He drags the blunt nail of his thumb over my bottom lip, pulling it apart from the top one before he takes it between his own in a painfully slow kiss. I'm this close to losing my fucking mind... "I'll give it to you." He promises against my lips.  

" _Please_..." 

He pulls back with a grin and studies me, "But how should I do it, hmm?" He tilts his head, "Should I make you crazy for it?"

I roll my body against him with a broken whimper, "Come  _on._.. _Fuck me!_ "

He smirks, "Fucking look at you...  You're so fucking  _wrecked_ and I haven't even gotten to touch you yet."  He kisses me again, tongue deep and demanding, snaking his hands around my body to pull me hard against him.  Then without warning, he picks me up bridal-style and tosses me onto the mattress, where I land on my back in the middle of the bed. “Okay, Princess…” He wrenches my knees apart quickly and gazes down at my pussy. “You are so goddamn wet… Your hungry little cunt has been deprived of an orgasm for hours now, hasn’t it?”

I nod furiously.

“Use your words, Princess.” He sounds like he’s admonishing a toddler…

I clear my throat and try to look calm and collected, “Yes, Sir.”

He bends down to whisper in my ear, “I’m going to feast on your delicious little cunt." I can feel his grin, "Yeah, I'm going to make you lose your mind..." The gravelly scratch at the back of his throat sends shivers through me, "I want to hear you tell me, with every depraved and filthy detail, what I’m doing to you. _”_ His teeth graze the shell of my ear, "And then... I'm going to fuck you." 

“Yes, _p_ _lease,_  that!”

“Now, Princess. If I don’t think you’re being filthy enough with your words, I’ll stop fucking you, and you won’t get to come.”

I nod. “I understand, Sir.”

He smirks, “Good girl.”

* * *

 

BELLAMY POV

This should be interesting. Clarke is a creative person, and she gets off on dirty talk like no one’s business. I look down at her glistening cunt and feel a smirk stretching across my face as she gets wetter and wetter. Every time I give her an order, or call her a “good girl,” her pretty little pussy clenches a bit and more juices seep out betraying her attempts to appear unaffected.

“Where should I put my hands, Sir?”

“Clasp them together and place them above your head.” She complies immediately.

I begin to strip my own clothes off, but only get as far as my shirt before I find her cunt too irresistible. I slide onto the bed and settle down on my stomach between Clarke’s legs, at eye level with her cunt.

“What am I doing now, Princess?”

“You’re looking at me.”

“Not dirty enough, Princess.”

“You’re looking at my pussy.”

“Mmm hmm… What else? What am I seeing?”

She thrashes her head to the side and brings her arms down from above her. She is about to bring an arm to cover her face but I grab both of her hands and hold them tight by her sides. “No, no, no, Princess... No hiding. You know you’re a slut, and I love it." I shoot her a grin, "Now show me how dirty you are.”

She bites her lip, furrowing her brow, “You’re seeing my wet cunt. It’s shining because it’s dripping wet for you.”

“Good girl. Keep going.” I wrap my arms around her thighs, bringing my forearms over her hips to hold her down. She’s already starting to get ornery, trying to buck her hips up into my face. I use my fingers to spread her sweet looking pussy open to me. I don’t do anything but look at her, but she’s writhing as if my gaze is physically caressing her.

“You’re staring at my cunt like you are trying to resist licking it... but you know you want to. _”_ I raise an eyebrow. She’s baiting me, trying to manipulate me into doing her bidding… Sneaky little thing.

“You’re right, Princess. I _do_ want to." I smirk, "But I have self-control. I’ll eat your cunt when _I_ think it’s ready for me to eat it.”

She nearly shrieks in frustration. “Please, please just lick me. Do _something, PLEASE!_

“What’s your task?”

She huffs, “To say what you’re doing to me.”

“And are you completing your task to my satisfaction?”

She sighs, “If I were, you would be sucking on my clit right now.”

“That’s right, Princess. So try again. I want to hear the most _lewd_ things you can come up with _.”_

She takes a deep breath. _“_ You’re gazing hungrily at my pussy, which is wide open for you... I can’t hide my dripping wet cunt from you, Sir.”

“Good girl, what else.”

 _“_ When you call me a good girl, my pussy puckers all by itself... Like it wants to hear what a good little cunt it is.”

“Yeah, it does. It’s a good, pretty little cunt.” Clarke groans and bucks her hips up. “What does this pretty little cunt want, Princess?”

Clarke is breathless, desperate, helpless… “It wants to get _fucked_. It wants your tongue in it. It wants your cock in it." She inhales sharply, "It wants to come all over your mouth… or your fingers… or your cock. It just wants you to fill it up, Sir.”   Who am I to deny her? I lick a strong line up her slit and I’m rewarded with a gorgeous, throaty moan. As long as she keeps talking, I keep going at it.

Her fucking voice makes me want to come just listening to her. At this point, she’s in ecstasy, not caring at all how loud she’s getting. “Oh, HOLY FUCK, that feels incredible… Your tongue is tasting me... It’s inside of me… Oh, god…" Her body quivers, "You’re dipping your tongue into my wet cunt… I love your tongue… Oh goddammit, your fingers are inside of me… _Please_ baby, suck on my clit… I’m gonna come… _PLEASE_ , can I can’t hold it back…” I tap her on the hip to get her attention and when she looks at me I give her a thumbs-up. _“Ohhhhhh FUCK!!!”_ After that it’s completely unintelligible.

I keep tongue-fucking her through her orgasm, and once her moans subside and the rhythmic clenching of her inner walls slows, she pushes my face away, _“_ Too much, baby… Fuck that was good.”

I can feel a shit-eating grin taking over my face… “Still hate me?”

She laughs out loud. “Oh, god… I love you so much.”

I leave open-mouth kisses in a line from her inner thigh, down to her ankle. I switched to her other leg, making my way back up to her heat. She got that Brazilian a while back. According to her “It’s fucking addicting!” Some of my favorite words that have ever fallen from Clarke’s mouth were _“Oh my god, baby… my pussy is so fucking smooth, I can’t stop touching myself!”_ I’m pretty sure I got light-headed from the abrupt shift of blood flow down south… I keep kissing up the middle of her torso, spending some time on her tits, which I have sadly neglected since walking in the room.

She wiggles her hips underneath mine, which reminds me that I’ve got my own hard-on to take care of, now. Clarke is way too blissed out for a blowjob right now, but I don’t think she’d be opposed to fucking… As if she can read my mind, she pulls my face down and my lips meet hers. She opens her mouth immediately to deepen the kiss and I melt into her embrace. She wraps her legs around my waist and squeezes my hips into hers.

I break the kiss and prop myself up on my forearms, my face hovering above hers. Her luminous smile is contagious. I feel goosebumps erupting along my body as she rakes her fingers through my hair. I feel my heart fall into a frenzy when her breathless voice breaks, “Bellamy… make love to me.” Everything in my world condenses into this – Clarke, uninhibited and wanton beneath me, deep but vulnerable eyes piercing me, bared to me body and soul. I nod my head wordlessly, seeing in her eyes the raw desire, need, and desperation that I know is reflected in my own. I trace my fingers over her cheekbones and along her jawline, committing her features to memory for what feels like the millionth time. I will never have enough of her. She reaches between us and I lift my hips up as she unfastens my belt and jeans, then pushes my jeans and boxers down as far as her arms will reach. She uses her feet to push them down farther while I kick them off the rest of the way. Clarke’s body fits so perfectly with mine. Ours is a well-practiced dance.

I sink into her as she loops her legs over my waist, unable to suppress a lustful groan. Her breath hitches beautifully as I become fully sheathed inside of her and she drops her shoulders and head back against the mattress behind her. The love in her eyes is almost overwhelming, threatening to consume me in the best possible way. I drop my forehead to hers, remaining stilled within her, taking this moment to just _feel_ the bond between our bodies. She brings me into a searing kiss, one hand tangled in my hair, the other wandering everywhere it can reach.

Clarke rocks her hips against mine, her signal for me to start moving. Our tongues tangle languidly, matching the way I’m slowly and deeply thrusting into her. I feel her walls start to flutter already and I begin to lose my grip on control. I want her to come at least once before I do. I snake a hand between us and press small circles into her clit and she comes hard and strong, crying out with pleasure. I maintain the movements, fucking her through her orgasm. I want to bury myself into her as deeply as possible, so I hook my right arm under her left knee, unwrapping her leg from around my waist so that I can push her thigh up against her chest, opening her up so I can attain even deeper penetration. She continues to anchor me to herself with her other leg, still wrapped around my waist. I start driving into her again, this time faster and more erratically. The feeling of Clarke’s cunt around me is among my favorite things, ever. It is so inviting and addictive - warm and wet, smooth and velvety. I’m not going to last much longer, and thank god Clarke is close to another orgasm. Her cries get more lustful, her kisses more vigorous, her hips more erratic. Then, as her cunt pulsates around my throbbing cock, I crash over the edge with her, both of us vocalizing our ecstasy loudly and without concern for who may be trying to sleep in the rooms nearby. I continue kissing her, my cock still buried inside of her as I grind my pelvic bone against her clit, easing her down from her climax.

As our breathing returns to normal and we come back to reality, I roll off of Clarke, onto my side next to her. She turns her head and looks at me with a glowing smile. “That was nice, Bell.”

I huff a small, satisfied laugh, “Yeah, it was, Clarke.”

She smirks as she rolls onto her side to face me, “So your orgasm count is three so far. I haven’t decided how many you’ll need to give me to make up for leaving me stranded for several hours…” I bring my hand up to tuck a stray curl behind her ear.

“I think I’ll be making it up to you all night long...”

“You tell me. Think you can go all night, old man?”

I scoff, “Old? Are you calling me old?”

She giggles, “You ARE in your thirties, Bell.”

“Don’t forget, so are you, Princess.”

She reels back in false exasperation, “Did no one ever teach you, don’t discuss a lady’s age! It’s bad manners!”

I poke her side, “Good thing you aren’t a ‘lady.”

After a bout of raucous laughter, our breathing has returned to normal and her voice is steadier, “So, what did you bring for us?”

I give her a suggestive smirk, " _Oh, Princess..._ "

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like I said, this is in two parts. The next chapter is going to be all sorts of kinky fun ;) 
> 
> Please, REVIEW! I love reading them, and they get me excited to write more!  
> If you're enjoying this, please leave KUDOS! 
> 
> I hope to get the next part posted soon.


	25. bag of tricks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke and Bellamy get kinky again ;)...  
> Picks up immediately where chapter 25 left off. 
> 
> Bellamy POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your awesome comments! They make me smile!
> 
> Okay, so this is chapter was a beast! I think it turned out to be about 9K words.  
> *TRIGGER WARNINGS* - KINKY STUFF ;)  
> \- Sensation play  
> \- Sensory deprivation (blindfold)  
> \- Pain play (getting more intense for Clarke)  
> \- Rough sex. 
> 
> If those things freak you out, you might want to skip this chapter.

So, what did you bring for us?

_“Oh, Princess…”_

* * *

“Well, like I said, I brought rope. I went ahead and brought some of the vibrators you like playing with.”

She gives a lop-sided grin, “Oh, don’t pretend you don’t like watching.”

I chuckle as I lower my voice, “Oh, it’s no secret. I love watching you fuck yourself, Princess.”

“What else?”

“Needy much? God, Princess…” I smirk at her. “I brought the TENS. Your favorite attachments… Um… A blindfold, which reminds me, do you have the ice bucket?”

She frowns, looking unsure of why my mind went from blindfolds to ice. “Um yeah. There’s ice in the kitchen.”

“You have a fucking kitchen in here?”

“Well, it’s a small one. It’s really more just an area where you can set up a bar. This is kind of an entertainment suite, I guess.”

“How the hell did you get set up here?”

“Actually, it’s all they had left at the hotel. The conference attendees must have booked the place up pretty quickly and since I was a late sign-up, the only rooms left were swanky ones.”

“Jesus…”

“The practice is paying for it. I’m bringing back prestige, particularly because I'm one of the speakers.  I'll also have some extra certifications after this, so it’s good for everyone. They agreed to pay for a suite in the same hotel as the conference so I could have a chance to mingle with the other big-wigs in our field.”

“Have you gotten to do that?”

“Yeah. A lot, actually. One of the docs my mom used to work for is here and invited a few of us out for drinks on the last night. I gave him a ‘maybe’ reply. Why do you ask?”

“What’s your schedule tomorrow?”

“I’m taking part in a panel and presenting on some things from my Fellowship. That’s scheduled for 2PM. I need to be down there to set up by 1:30.”

“So you’re free until 1:30?”

“Yes. I am all yours for the next-” I look at the clock, which reads 9:15 PM, “16 hours and 15 minutes.” She scoots up to the middle of the bed and leans back casually against the pillows. She’s doing the lip-biting thing, as if my dick needs to be any harder right now. “So what else did you bring?”

“Let’s see…” I get off the bed and walk back to the doorway where I dropped my bags in a hurry to get to Clarke. I bring my luggage in and set it on the bed where I unzip the larger suitcase. I list the items out as I take them out of the suitcase. “Okay, so we’ve got rope. A lot of it. The TENS... Hitachi magic wand and some attachments… Blindfold… Leather cuffs… Your favorite flogger…”

She smiles, “I bet TSA had a field day with this…”

I laugh, “Yeah probably. I checked the suitcase so I didn’t have to deal with something embarrassing in the security line.”

“Probably a good idea.” She smiles and points to another bag on the floor. “And what’s in there?”

I shake my head with a grin, “That’s _my_ little bag of tricks. We might do some sensation play. These will be a surprise. We could make it a game… You’ll be blindfolded, and I’ll touch you in different places with various materials. You’ll experience a variety of sensations. Whenever you correctly guess what I’m touching you with, you’ll get a reward.” I glance up at Clarke and she looks positively _feral_. She meets my eye and I know her ravenous gaze is reflected in mine.

“That sounds like fun. Can you tie me up for it?”

See, I keep thinking my dick can’t get any harder, then she says shit like that… “Yeah, Princess. We can tie you up. We’ll do something less restrictive so you can stay tied longer.”

“Okay. Can we do it now?”

“Eager, are we?”

She giggles, “I feel like a kid waiting for her parents to get going so we can visit the zoo... Or in this case, waiting for my lover to get his ass in gear so he can do some _really depraved_ shit with me.”

I roll my eyes with a laugh. “Okay Princess, I hear you. Get up, go eat something – _not just crackers_ – do you have actual food up here?”

“I’ve got deli sandwiches in the fridge exactly for this purpose – so I could eat without you bitching and moaning at me about it not being enough.” She sticks her tongue out. “I ordered them while you were on your way here.”

“Good. Have one of them. And also-“

She cuts me off, “-Drink lots of water, I know. I’ve made sure to be super hydrated for tonight.”

Clarke gets up and is about to put a robe on, but I stop her, “Nope. No robe, Princess. I want you naked for the rest of tonight. Actually, I don’t want you putting clothes back on until you leave for your presentation tomorrow.”

She rolls her eyes and smirks, “Why am I not surprised?” On her way to the kitchen she stops next to me. I turn toward her and she pulls me into a deep kiss. “I really fucking missed you.”

“I missed you, too.” She’s smiling like a Cheshire cat. “Thanks for having me here, Clarke."  I grin suggestively,  "Really. I think we’re gonna have a _really fucking good time._ ”

“What do you think about spending an extra couple of days here? I was originally going to leave Friday morning, but I could extend our reservations until Sunday morning. I’ll just pay the practice back for Friday and Saturday nights. Then we have even more time to _play_.” She winks at me, and I can’t help but completely agree. She darts into the kitchen to grab the food and drinks while we continue our conversation.

“Can you afford that? I mean, this room looks expensive...”

“Did I tell you how ridiculous that signing bonus was? I was able to pay off all of my credit cards and still have plenty left over. Yeah, I’m splurging a bit, but deserve it. Have you seen my apartment? It’s basically a shit apartment in a shit part of town. That’s why there are so many locks on the doors... Also because Alex was home alone sometimes and we all felt better with a ton of deadbolts… My point is, I have done a LOT of saving and cutting costs everywhere I could for the last seven years.”

“Why? You’re a doctor. Aren’t you guys supposed to make a fuck-ton of money?”

She barks out a laugh, “HA! Do you know what my salary was during my residency?”

“Um… no?”

She sounds like she’s both laughing and sighing. “Forty-five fucking thousand a year. $45K. Okay? There are secretaries who earn more than I did, Bellamy.  I'm not knocking secretaries - but they didn't have to go through the hell of medical school... I’m just fortunate that I had my trust fund to pay for medical school so I wasn’t drowning in debt and interest. I could have dipped into the trust fund again, but after I had Alex, I decided I wanted to put the rest away for her college fund and/or emergencies.”

She comes back in the room, sandwiches and water bottles in hand, and hands me my share. We talk while we eat.

“Jesus... So doctors are supposed to come out of medical school and get shit for pay? How would you have paid off loans?”

She shrugs, “Hell if I know. Luckily, most loans can be deferred while in residency. After docs are done with their residencies, pay usually increases considerably.”

“Still. That would suck to be in six-figure debt on a five-figure salary. Even with deferment, most loans collect interest. Can you imagine interest on a six-figure loan for _years_?”

She nods her head in agreement, “Yeah, and it sucks for general practitioners or family docs after residency. They don’t earn nearly as much as they used to when you count inflation and increased cost of living in general. So, unless you go into a specialty, the pay for an MD isn’t really all that glamorous.”

I furrow my brow, “So what about you? Is your field a specialty?”

She has a beaming smile, “It is. That’s why I went through a three-year Maternal Fetal Medicine fellowship beyond my 4-year residency. It meant another three years of shit pay. It was slightly better than residency, but not by much. Still, it’s worth it because I’ll be making even more than I would have as a regular OB/GYN. And the cases are a lot more interesting and complicated. It’s so cool, Bell.” When she talks about this achievement, she looks so proud. I know she went through hell, being a single mom and trying to accomplish what she has.

“I’m really fucking proud of you, Princess.”

She grins and shrugs her shoulders. “Thanks, Bellamy. Really. If anyone knows how long I wanted this, it’s you.”

I nod. “I never doubted you’d do it, Princess.”

She snorts, “Well, I sure as hell did. God, so many times I was ready to throw in the towel. But it’s awesome to be able to look back at it now and know that I fucking got _through_ it and came out the other side.”

She balls up the wrappers to our sandwiches and takes them into the kitchen while drinking down a bottle of water. I finish one myself and get up to start sorting out the rope I brought and placing a few pairs of flat-edged scissors in easy-to-grab spots in the room in case there’s an emergent need to cut the ropes. She walks back in, still completely naked and seeming to be completely comfortable with it. “I assume you brought a toothbrush? Because those sandwiches had onion in them. And if you want me to kiss you, then-“

I cut her off by tickling her sides, “I’ve got a toothbrush, Princess.” I bring my bag into the bathroom and we brush our teeth side-by-side. It feels ridiculously domestic in a way, but I never knew that something like brushing teeth could be so sexually _charged._ It shouldn’t be a surprise, really. We’re both stark naked. All of a sudden, I feel like I can’t get this done fast enough. I manage to maintain composure long enough for us to rinse the toothpaste out, sweeping her up into a passionate kiss.

I start trailing my lips down her neck and she sighs, “There’s a big bed out there, begging to be used…”

I laugh against her skin, “You’re right.” I pinch her ass and she squirms away from me, bouncing out of the bathroom and into the bedroom. She turns around to face me when she reaches the edge of the bed. I stop a minute in the doorway to take in the sight before me: Clarke, wearing nothing but a smile. She manages to exude confidence and vulnerability simultaneously, and it’s sexy as hell.

She raises her eyebrows in question, “What? Is something wrong?”

I shake my head while I walk over to her. I turn her around to face away from me and bend my head down to kiss her neck, gently nibbling her skin until I get to her shoulder. I bring my hands around her front to play with her tits. I cup my hands around them, enjoying their heaviness in my palms. She leans her head back against me, turning her face into my neck and leaving a tender kiss. My fingers tweak and pluck at her nipples and she releases a surprised yelp, which I swallow with a sudden kiss.

She pulls away after a bit, looking pointedly at the toys on the bed. “So, what’s next?”

I reach around her to pick up one of the ropes on the bed. “ _This_ , Princess, is what’s next.”

“Did you decide which ties you’re going to use?”

I nod, “I’m going to frog-tie your legs. While we’re exploring sensation, I’m going to have you lying on the bed. And, because I _really_ like the idea of your pretty little cunt being on display for me, I’m going to further restrain your legs to be spread _open_ , tying them down to the bed. That reminds me, I’ll need you to help me set up the under-mattress ties. Let’s do that now.”

She nods and I grab two strands of the thicker ropes I brought. We stand on opposite sides of the mattress and feed the long ends of the rope underneath the mattress – one set at about head level, and the other underneath the foot of the bed. We did this when we wanted to do a spread-eagle tie at her place, because she didn’t have bed posts. Now that that’s finished, it’s time to bind Clarke.

“Sit on the bed, Princess.” I pat the spot where I want her to sit, and she hastily obeys my order with an enthusiastic “Yes, Sir.” I position her so I can fold her leg in half, bending her knee fully until the undersides of her thigh and calf are touching completely. Basically, the same way her leg would be bent if she was sitting on her knees. I form a lark’s head at the center of the rope by passing the loose tails through the center of the rope. I place the lark’s head around her bent limb about halfway up her thigh, pulling it snug while still making sure I can fit two fingers between the ropes and Clarke’s skin. I then begin to wrap the now-double strand of rope around her leg about seven times, not overlapping any of the strands.

I check in with Clarke, “How’s it feeling? Any numbness, pain, or pinching?”

She shakes her head, “No, Sir. It’s all good so far.”

I nod my head and continue. I feed the working end back through the bight used when I made the lark’s head at the beginning, then pull the tails the rest of the way through. I snug everything up, again making sure that I can fit two fingers between her skin and the ropes. I tuck the tails between the two “halves” of her leg and feed them through to the other side, then tuck the tails underneath the wraps, pulling toward her ankle. Then I pull the rope back through to the other side. I tuck the tails up under the wraps and pull them out near the knee joint. _Then_ I pull the rope tight, “cinching” to lock the rope in place. I finish it off in a way to keep the rope locked in place so it can’t get any tighter (or looser), ending with a square knot.

“Okay, this limb is done. How are you feeling?”

“Good. This is good. No pinching or pain or numbness.”

I check the color of her toes to make sure there’s no blue color or purpling that would indicate impaired blood flow beneath the knee. Satisfied with this limb, I turn her around to repeat the process on her other leg.

I step back to look at my handiwork. “You look gorgeous, Princess.”

“Yeah? I like these – it feels… dangerous.”

I raise my eyebrows, “Dangerous? How so?”

“Like right now, I can keep my legs closed and it doesn’t really feel any different from just folding my leg. But when my legs are spread apart-“ She spreads her knees in opposite directions, revealing her wet, swollen pussy “-I feel _so_ vulnerable. Like I’m completely exposed.”

I give her a wicked smirk, “Well, that’s the point, Princess.” She starts to close her legs, but I shake my head. “Lay down on your back in the center of the bed.”   She complies quickly. “Now, do I need to attach your legs to the under-mattress ties to keep your legs apart? Or do you think you can keep yourself spread wide open and pretty for me?”

She twists her mouth to the side, “I would like to think I could hold them open.” After a few moments of thought, she continues, “But, I want you to tie them down, anyway. I like the feeling of being physically _restrained_ … _confined for your enjoyment_.” If I weren’t so eager to play, I would fuck her right now, just to ease the ache on my rock hard cock. She keeps saying shit that turns me on more, and it’s nearly painful not to do anything about it.

I attach each frogtie to an end of the rope that is running below the foot of the mattress, affording me an extraordinary view of her dripping wet cunt.

“I’m going to tie your arms open, Princess.”

She nods her head, “Yes, Sir. I would like that.” She obediently spreads her arms out to each side. I tie flogging cuffs around her wrists, again checking for signs of circulation impairment. Once satisfied, I attach them to the under-mattress rope at the head of the bed. I take a step back to inspect my work. She’s fucking beautiful like this. Literally spread wide open in front of me, ready for me to use however I please.

“Fuck, Princess…”

“Is it good?”

“Do you know how bad I want to fuck you right now?”

She smirks, “Why don’t you?”

I shake my head and smile, “Because we’re going to _play_ first… I’m going to play your body like a finely tuned instrument, Princess… I’m going to make you _feel_ … _all over…_.”

I see a shiver run through her.

“A blindfold is what will make this a truly sensual experience. Your sight will be disabled, so you’ll be able to focus on the sensations I’m giving you. Is that okay?”

She nods her head vigorously, and her smile is almost devious. “Yes, Sir. Please blindfold me.” I pull out a simple, soft blindfold and scoot up the bed to tie it gently but snug around over her eyes.

“How is that? Can you see anything?”

She shakes her head, “No. Everything is blacked out.”

I squeeze her hand twice, and she gives me two squeezes back. Even though there’s no reason she would be in subspace, I just want to make sure she remembers the squeeze test. I bring my “bag of tricks” to the bed and place it next to us. I start with just a feather tickler, which basically looks like a small feather duster.

Clarke’s body is practically vibrating with anticipation. She’s in the perfect state for stimulation with a feather. I hover the feather tickler above the skin on the side of her abdomen, without actually touching it, just to see how lit-up her body is. As it passes over, the surface of her skin twitches. She is responding quite strongly to almost _zero_ stimulation. I sweep the tickler very lightly up the other side of her belly, this time brushing the skin surface. She gasps and her abdomen takes on a noticeably concave shape when the muscles flex involuntarily.

“Princess, your body is already responding powerfully… Your whole torso just twitched when I only barely grazed it.” She inhales sharply as I start to wander over her body with the tickler, “Where else can I get a _reaction_ , I wonder…” I stroke the sides of her breasts, purposely avoiding stimulation of her nipples. She tries to twist her body to blindly meet the tickler, but has had no success so far. I chuckle at her attempts, “Your body wants so badly to be teased, doesn’t it?”

I see her brows furrow underneath the blindfold. She nods her head, “Yes, Sir.”

I brush the tops and undersides of her breasts, again ignoring her nipples. She groans a little bit in frustration but doesn’t move her body this time. I move lower now, caressing the outside of her thighs, lightly grazing the skin that isn’t covered by bindings. The tickler then travels to her lower abdomen, stopping to tease her just above her pubic bone. She attempts to buck her hips up, but is having some difficulty with the action due to being tied down. I drag the tickler slightly lower, still teasing her. I draw wide circles around her pussy, starting near her belly button and _slowly_ shortening the radius of my circle. When the tickler touches her swollen outer labia, her whole body shudders. She tosses her head to the side, biting her lip so hard I’m concerned she might actually be drawing blood. I finally reward her with a barely-there sweep of the tickler over her clit and her body tenses up like she’s about to come. I brush her clit again, slightly more firmly, and she shakes some more. I keep teasing her pussy, alternating between tickling her labia and brushing over her now swollen and throbbing clit.

She is writhing underneath me and finally breaks her silence, nearly screaming, begging me, “Ohmyfuckinggod, PLEASE let me come, Sir… This is fucking TORTURE!”

I chuckle at her frustration, “You said ‘ _fucking_ torture,’ and that’s _literally_ what this is, Princess...” I laugh darkly again, “Oh, this is going to be a fun night.”  

She grunts, “Not in the mood for word play, Bell.”

I stop my ministrations altogether and she shrieks in protest. I admonish her, “Princess, you can come when I decide you are ready. And you are not behaving like a good girl.”

Clarke shapes up immediately, especially after I withheld her orgasm for the entire length of the flight and then some. “I’m sorry, Sir. I’ll behave.” I give her a few moments to compose herself while I decide where to tease next.

I drag the tickler in a line from her pubic bone to her chin. When I pass between her tits, I sweep a figure-eight pattern around the globes of flesh a few times. Her nipples look hard as rocks and gooseflesh has broken out over her entire body. I drag the feather lightly from her chin to her ear, then along her jawline to her other ear, lightly tapping the tickler underneath her earlobe. She bends her head to the side, exposing the long line of her neck. “Do you want me to caress your neck, Princess?”

She nods her head, “Mmm hmm.”

I give her a warning tone, “Ahem. Manners?”

Her voice is unsteady, “I’m – please, yes, Sir… I’m- sir, I’m s-sorry…” She takes a breath, “Yes, please use it on my neck, Sir… Please.” She is fucking _falling apart_ with this, and I’ve barely done _anything._

I laugh again at her flustered demeanor. “God, Princess… This is _too_ good. Why the fuck haven’t I tortured you like this before? It’s so fucking easy with you…” She attempts to shrug her shoulders. “I think we keep starting out a session _intending_ to have some sensation play but get caught up in other stuff…” She nods her head. “Not one for words right now, Princess?” She shakes her head. “I bet you didn’t know you craved humiliation so much, did you?” She shakes her head again. “By shaking your head, are you saying ‘no, I didn’t know?’ or ‘no I don’t crave humiliation?’” She huffs and furrows her brows, but I see her holding up her index finger, possibly indicating the former statement being true.

I’m dragging the tickler along her neck, where she wanted it, occasionally dipping down to stroke her armpit, much to her chagrin. Even _I_ can hear the sinister quality in my laugh. “So to clarify, you admit that you crave humiliation?” She nods her head. “I want to hear you say it, Princess. Use your words.”

She makes some sort of growling sound, and I laugh out loud at her annoyance. I look down at her pussy and it is positively _dripping_ with evidence of her arousal. “Come _on_ , Princess. _Say it_. Say ‘ _I want you to degrade me and humiliate me_.’” She growls again. “You know you want to. All I have to do is look down at your bare cunt and I can see how sopping wet you are...” She sighs loudly again, “In case you’re having a hard time believing me-“I plunge two fingers into her cunt and pump them a few times “-the room _next door_ can probably hear how tragically _wet_ you are, Princess.”

Then she calls out, “YELLOW!” I sit up and immediately remove her blindfold.

The concern is evident in my voice, “Talk to me. Do you need the cuffs off? Legs freed?” I’m leaning to grab one of the pairs of scissors when Clarke shakes her head and laughs out loud, and I don’t know what the hell to make of it. She suddenly dons a lop-sided grin and plops her head back on the pillow with an exasperated sigh, “Fuck _me…_ Goddammit. It’s true. It’s true, isn’t it?” Okay, she needs a minute to adjust to yet another facet of her sexual awakening. That’s perfectly fine with me.

I smirk in answer to her question, “Yeah, I think so, Princess.”

She rolls her eyes, “Sorry to call a ‘yellow’ for this.”

I lift her chin to look at me, “Clarke, we’ve been over this. You _never_ have to apologize for calling a safe word. You need a moment. That’s fine.”

“Okay... What all falls into this ‘humiliation’ umbrella that you’ve seen me get off on?”

I feel the mischievous grin on my face. “Keeping in mind, this is _only_ applicable sexually.” She nods, but I continue with caution. “Humiliation... It’s when I reprimand you like a bratty kid. It’s part of why you like being called a slut. It’s why you want my permission for orgasms. When I had you take your panties off in the elevator – that’s actually a pretty intense form of humiliation. And you went even further with it all on your own. You _crave_ subjugation in a sexual context.”

That smirk of hers is back. “Well _fuck_. I love all of those things. That’s humiliation?”

“That’s part of it. There’s other shit, but it can get kind of intense.”

She twists her mouth to the side, “What if it’s something I would like? I won’t know unless you try it.”

 _Fuck_ , this woman is going to be the death of me… “Okay, Princess. We can build on what we’ve been doing, and maybe I’ll add things here and there. If you don’t like them, let me know and it won’t happen again.”

Clarke nods, “Deal. Get back to playtime, Sir.”

I straighten up and raise an eyebrow as my voice takes on a menacing quality. “ _Excuse_ _me_ , Princess? Don’t think for a second that you get to tell _me_ what to do.” Her breath hitches and she tries to sink farther into the bed. I would be worried that I got too dark too fast, but there is a triumphant glimmer in her eye telling me she just got _exactly_ what she wanted from me. Dammit. “You’re a _crafty_ little slut, aren’t you? Thinking you can control _me_?”

She shrugs her shoulders and looks toward the ceiling, feigning innocence. “May I please have the blindfold back, Sir?”

I’m still giving her what she wants here, but she is forgetting what she’s in for. I can edge her all night long if she keeps trying to manipulate me. “Of course, Princess.” I gently tie it over her eyes again, blocking out her sight. I start the feather-tickling over again, and I’m pleased to find that she’s still as wound-up as ever. I go back to teasing her pussy, drawing large circles around her swollen pussy lips. I graze the tickler over her clit and she tenses up so hard she nearly levitates off the bed.

“Oh, fuck… please don’t do that unless you’re going to let me come, Sir.” I deviate from the pattern, and start randomly caressing various parts of her body. I come back to her clit and she’s almost sobbing, “God, no. _Please_ … I can’t take it unless I can come. If you don’t stop I’ll come, Sir!”

“Don’t you _dare_ , Princess.”

She moans and is thrashing her head side-to-side. She’s trying to close her legs, straining against the tie-downs. _“_ Please, please, please… It’s too much… I can’t control this!”

“Yes, you can. You can do this. You’re doing _so good_ , Princess.”

She nods, apparently motivated by the encouragements. “I can do it…” I switch between her clit and other parts of her body, keeping up the teasing for at least ten minutes. I bring her to _actual tears_ with my ministrations.

“You’ve been doing so well, Princess. You’ve been a good girl.”

She’s nodding furiously in agreement. “Yes, Sir. I’m _trying_.”

“Does my _good_ little slut wanna come?”

She’s still nodding, and her entire body is shaking beneath a measly fucking feather ticker.

I dust the feather over her slit, brushing over her ass cheeks, then bring it back over her clit without actually touching it. “Okay, Princess…” Just as I touch it the feather to her clit, I tell her “You have my permission.” She screams out, her entire body tensing up as she lets herself finally _, finally_ tumble over the edge.

I just got her to come. With. A. Feather.

I can’t help but be obnoxiously proud of that achievement. As usual, she’s writhing against the restraints when she comes. I bring my face to her neck, speaking softly, “Okay, Princess.   Shhhh. It’s okay, I got you…” I rub my hand up and down the arm closest to me, while I use my other hand to massage small circles into her hips. This usually does the trick in bringing her back to me, and it works like a charm now, too.

Still blindfolded, she smiles as she recovers from her first feather-induced orgasm. “Holy shit, that was fucking intense!”

I laugh, “Yeah, your body responds really strongly to this.” I bend down to whisper in her ear _,_ “I’m just getting started, Princess.”

Her body shivers and she bites her lip. I can’t see her eyes, which is strange. Her blue orbs do a lot to tell me what she’s going through and what she’s thinking… “Give me your word, Princess.”

“Cherries, Sir.”

I nod, “Okay. I’m going to do something in the kitchen real quick – it’ll only take a few minutes. Are you okay to stay tied up like this?”

She nods her head, “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Do you want me to take the blindfold off?”

She nods, “If we were at home, I would say leave it on, but this isn’t home. I kind of want to be able to see.”

I untie the fabric from around her head. “Better?”

She nods with a smile. “Can I have a pillow for now?”

I grab a pillow from the couch, where we piled up all the bed linens when we were setting up the under-mattress ropes. She lifts her head up and I slide the pillow underneath. “How’s that?”

“Perfect. Thanks.”

I press a kiss on her forehead, “I’ll be right back.”

I pick up my “bag of tricks” and head to the kitchen. Having a setup like this works in my favor, because I was hoping to do some temperature sensation play, which would have been annoyingly difficult for anything besides ice.

I have a tube I use to make something called an “Ice dildo.” It’s just a plastic PVC pipe through which I roll a condom. I fill up the condom with water, then tie off the top of the condom before I put it in the freezer to freeze. It usually takes a few hours, so we’ll probably start doing something else before returning to temperature sensation play. We may even do it tomorrow instead. Either way, it’ll be interesting to see her reaction. I have a few pyrex dildos, so I put one of them in the fridge for now. I nab a few bowls, filling one with ice and another with warm (almost, but not quite hot) water. I place the other pyrex dildo into the warm water bowl, then cover both of the bowls with towels to conceal their contents.

I return to the room with all of our toys, as well as the bowls of water and ice. Clarke is relaxed in the bed, looking surprisingly comfortable tied down. She is hot as fuck like this – sprawled out, completely open and on display for me. It appears she’s gotten past the shyness she was exhibiting earlier. I glance between her legs, smirking when I see that her pussy is still dripping wet. Before setting up, I grab a few towels from the bathroom. I spread them out under Clarke, a task which takes some maneuvering. I should have thought about it _before_ tying her down...

I take the opportunity to check the status of Clarke’s bound limbs. The coloring is good, and her extremities are still warm. I run my fingers over Clarke’s hand, “Can you feel this?” She nods. I rub my thumbs along her index finger one of her hands, “What finger am I stroking right now?”

“My pointer finger.”

I nod my head and repeat a similar test on the other hand before moving to her feet and making the same assessments. Satisfied that there aren’t signs of circulation deficits, I continue assessing her, “How are your hips feeling? Any pain?”

She shakes her head and confidently reminds me, “I do yoga. I’m flexible as fuck. You know that.”

I laugh, “I don’t think there’s any way I could forget...” I pick up the blindfold. “You good to go on, Princess?”

She smiles, “Yes, Sir.” I tie the blindfold back over her eyes.

“I want to do some temperature-based sensation play with you, which is exactly what it sounds like.”

“Touching different parts of my body with hot or cold things?”

I smirk, even though she can’t see it. “Exactly. I also brought clothespins.” Her body shivers and she bites her bottom lip while smiling excitedly. I gaze over her body, taking in her form. I caress my hands along her stomach, dragging over her pubic mound, grazing her inner thighs very lightly. “I was going to do temperature play first, but I think I want to play with the clothespins instead.”

She licks her lips and nods her head. “It’s your call, Sir.”

I chuckle ominously, “Oh, I _know_ it is…”

The process of placing the clothespins over the body can be very sensual for both of us. I start by lightly brushing my fingers from her wrist to her armpit. I follow with my tongue, laving over her skin along the path my fingers just took. Just above her elbow, I blow softly on her skin as it is still drying, causing her to shiver. She hisses when I finally pinch up a bit of the skin and attach to it the first clothespin of my “zip strip,” which is a fun term for a bunch of clothespins strung together on a piece of twine. This strip has hem spaced about two to three inches apart.   I attach them slowly, in a line starting at her inner elbow down the side of her chest, which takes up the first zip strip. I use another strip on her breast, attaching the clothespins in a spiral, starting near the end of the last strip and ending with the last pin clamping over her nipple.

I occasionally sneak a hand down to play with her pussy a little bit, just so it doesn’t feel too left out. Much to Clarke’s annoyance, I purposely avoid stimulating her clit right now. I laugh unsympathetically every time she attempts to buck her hips so that I’ll “accidentally” graze her clit. I know her too well, and I anticipate all of her antics, so she is ultimately unsuccessful. I don’t think she actually _expects_ for her efforts to succeed. I think she _craves_ the admonishments I give her when she’s misbehaving.

Again, as I prepare to attach each pin, I spend a generous amount of time touching and caressing the skin to be pinned. When I get to her nipple, I spend extended time playing with it, flicking it with the tip of my tongue, then laving my tongue over the sensitive flesh. I don’t waste the opportunity to close my lips over her soft nipple and suck into my mouth, alternating the suction pressure I apply. She’s making the most erotic noises with every pull, every nibble… I release her nipple with a “pop” sound before softly blowing on it, coaxing it into an erect peak. While I finally clamp the clothespin over her nipple, I grant her some indulgence by rubbing a few quick circles over her clit. She whimpers in gratified agony, her mind at war over the opposing sensations of pain and pleasure.

“How are we doing, Princess?”

She pants, “Very good, Sir. _Very_ good.” 

I repeat the process on her other side, and by time I’m finished, she is moaning and writhing underneath me, pulling powerfully at her restraints. I speak softly into her ear, “Princess. Shhh… Relax… Relax your arms for me. I don’t want you to hurt yourself, baby.” She stops straining, but is still panting and quite tense overall. “Take some deep breaths for me, okay?” I guide her through some deep breathing while stroking different parts of her body. After a few deep breaths, the tension is gone and her breathing has returned to a normal rate and depth.

“That’s my good girl…” I take a peek at her pussy while I’m giving her praises, and it’s clenching... I can’t keep the smirk off my face, knowing that it’s _me_ who makes that happen.

“Bell, can you take a picture when you’re done? I want to see what these look like on me. And I want to see what I look like all tied down like this.”

Of course she wants pictures of her kinks… I am more than happy to oblige. “Sure, Princess. Do you have a camera here?”

“Just use your phone. NOT mine – Alex will get into it and find it.” I grab my phone and snap some pictures for her. She wiggles her body a little and shudders at the sensations achieved.

“You enjoying that, Princess?”

She nods her head in response.

“Do you remember how they feel when I release them?”

She huffs, “They hurt like fucking hell…”

I chuckle darkly, “But you _love_ it, don’t you?”

She bites her lip and nods her head.

“Use your words, Princess...”

“I love when it hurts, Sir.”  She’s going to put a hole in that lip if she keeps biting it like this.

“Good girl. Now, if you keep behaving, I’ll make this… _uniquely_ enjoyable for you.”

She’s trying to squeeze her thighs together to obtain some friction, but she’s completely unable to do so in this state, given that her legs are frog-tied and secured wide open. I’m treated to an extraordinary view of her dripping cunt, which is now leaking so much of her juices, it almost looks like I’ve come inside her again.

“What _kind_ of enjoyable, Sir?”

“You’ll have to wait and see, Princess.” She grins and nods her head. I grab the TENS unit, along with the electrode pads and the dildo attachment. I quickly apply the pads at the locations we’ve established through trial and error to be the best: on both sides of her clit and in the hollow between her inner thigh and outer labia. The best thing for Clarke about putting the pads on the sides of her clit is that it enables her to have intense clitoral stimulation for successive multiple orgasms without the pain of overstimulation that results from direct contact with the clit. She’s grinning like a Cheshire cat, knowing exactly what I just put on her. Her thighs are fucking _quivering_ right now and an _obscene_ amount of fluids are seeping from her glistening cunt. She’s panting and I can tell it’s taking everything in her to stay still.

“You’re being _such_ a good girl, Princess.”

She’s beaming as she nods vigorously, “Thank you, Sir.”

I rub the dildo attachment up and down her slit, gathering some of her natural lubricant. Clarke is panting and moaning, “Yes, fucking yes… Oh my god, thank you…” She almost sounds like she’s laughing. “Oh my _god,_ this is going to be fucking amazing, isn’t it?”

I can her the smirk in my own voice, “That’s the idea, Princess. But, you know I’m only going to turn it on if you keep behaving.”

She nods, giggling like a schoolgirl. “Yes, Sir.”

“And once it’s on, if you start misbehaving, what will I do?”

She frowns, “You’ll turn it off, Sir.”

“That’s right, Princess. So are you going to behave for me?”

“Yes, Sir. I’ll be a good girl.”

Goddammit, my cock is _painfully_ hard right now. Her compliance turns me on like nothing else. Clarke in general has no shortage of boner-inducing _attributes_. Her tits are fucking incredible… Her cunt, which is practically _sparkling_ , is mouth-watering… Her face is beautiful… She’s got Grade-A “fuck-me” eyes… But for me, there is nothing more captivating than her submission to me. Her obedience makes my head spin sometimes.

Sometimes I wonder why I find Clarke’s submission to be so much more satisfying than other subs I played with. There are many reasons, chief among them the fact that she’s a goddamn ball-buster in her daily life. She doesn’t take shit from anyone. She’s respectable and respectful, self-possessed and assertive. But as soon as she walks into _my_ domain? She’s free to be an “obedient little slut” (her words, not mine, but I won’t argue). _I_ call the shots, give the orders and make demands. I get off on control, and she relinquishes all of hers to me when we play… Truthfully, I know the reason Clarke’s submission so much more meaningful is because I love her like fucking crazy.

I slowly push the dildo attachment in. Clarke is wet as fuck right now, so I could easily insert it in one go, but I get off on teasing her. I love seeing how much she’ll take. I push it in just a little before pulling it back out, making her whimper in frustration. I rub it up and down her slit again before inserting it an inch or so farther this time. I twist it around inside of her a bit, letting her walls have a taste of impending pleasure, before pulling it back out again. This time she growls impatiently.

I clear my throat and my voice is menacing, “I’m warning you… There’s no three-strike rule for orgasm denial, sweetheart.”

She falls _right_ back into line at that threat, nodding and apologetic, “Yes, Sir. I’m so sorry.”

“Good girl.” I return to teasing her cunt with the dildo, repeating that tormenting pattern, sinking it a little deeper every time. This time, though, her moans are pleasurable and appreciative, not petulant and bratty. “Okay, Princess. It’s all the way in. No more teasing.”

She releases a relieved breath.

“Just like every other time, I’m not going to forbid you from orgasms while the TENS unit is on. It is literally impossible to control a climax.”

She sighs with a broad smile, “Oh, thank god.”

The dark tone of my laughter foreshadows the torment she’s about to endure. “ _We’ll see…_ ” She furrows her brows, but I don’t give her another second to think.

Without warning, I turn the TENS unit on and her entire body goes rigid as she opens her mouth in a silent scream. She takes a few gulping breaths and cries out in pure bliss. She’s in a world of pleasure, and it’s time to add some spice to the mix.

“Oh my fucking god… _fuck.”_ Her sobbing moans are unintelligible, but it’s clear she’s feeling good. Without putting any weight on her, I straddle her waist so I can reach the ends of both zip strips. I grab onto each strip at the end closer to the elbow. I begin to pull on the string, dislodging the first clothespins on each arm. She shrieks in pain but smiles through it like a true masochist. I slowly pull the next pins off until I’m at the end of the first set of strips. “FUCK, that’s… oh _god dammit!”_

Even though she can’t see my face, I’m pretty sure she can hear the smirk in my voice, “Did you already come, Princess?”

She nods her head, panting heavily.

I give her a short break before I start removing the pins that spiral around her tits. These will genuinely hurt, and she knows it. She’s panting again. I scoot further down her hips so I can rake my fingernails up and down her sides and up her belly, adding a neutral/positive sensation to counter the ultra-pleasure from the TENS and the agony from the Zip-strip. She arches her back, thrusting her chest up into my fingers as they travel up the middle of her torso.

As I start to remove the next clothespins, Clarke’s breathing becomes ragged and desperate. Each pin removal is more intense than the one before as we move to increasingly sensitive flesh. Her face is a mix of pain and sheer bliss. The only words she produces are desperate variants of “ _oh my god”_ and “ _oh fuck.”_ I feel a surge of pride knowing that I can play her body like an instrument. I pull the blindfold off so I can see her eyes when she reaches the peak of her pain.

A sob escapes her throat while tears well up in her eyes when I get to the last two clothespins, each pinching a nipple. “Give me your word, Princess.”

She nods while crying, “Cherries.” When she answers ‘ _cherries_ ,’ she’s telling me she wants to keep going, that she wants more, wants it longer. I want to worry, but she’s been working up to this point for months, and I think she’s ready for it if she wants to do it.

I give her a moment to prepare, ostensibly so she can prepare for the pain. In reality, the anticipation likely intensifies the perception of pain, but she gets off on it, so I’m not going to deny her. (She’s been _so_ well-behaved). She nods, signaling me to start. I pull up on the string but not enough to fully disengage the pins from her nipples. She shrieks and tears stream freely out of her eyes. There’s no escaping the pain that will occur once the clothespins are removed, but I can manipulate how _long_ I can extend the pain. I take the strings of both zip strips in one hand, alternating the tension between maintaining tautness (which hurts like hell) and releasing it so there’s some slack (which hurts even worse). I cradle her cheek with my free hand, stroking it with my thumb and talking to her.

“Princess, you’re so good… You’re so fucking beautiful…” She nods her head for me to continue and I pull the string tight again.

“Do you want them off yet, Princess?”

She shakes her head vigorously, replying in between sobs, “No… no… not yet… I can… keep going.”

I will gladly indulge her pain fantasies… I repeat the action of pulling and giving slack a several more times before I finally call it. _“_ Think you can come for me, Princess? I bet you wanna come, don’t you?”

She’s nodding furiously. I snap the strings up and the clothespins pop off of her nipples. She fucking _screams_. It’s so _loud_ and so long, I’m pretty sure we’re going to hear from security, but I can’t bring myself to give a fuck about it right now. She’s fucking _breathtaking_. Chest heaving, eyes swollen with tears that are falling freely down her face and saturating her blonde curls. Her body is shaking like a leaf and she’s covered in sweat.  

I jump off the bed and grab a blanket and lay it over her quickly, then I reach down and switch off the TENS unit. She’s not panicking or anything, but I don’t want her to get to the point where she might feel trapped by the restraints. I’m glad I made the wrist cuffs easy to untie. I go back and remove the electrode pads and I am stunned by what I see – I see why she was moaning so intensely. And I’m really glad I put towels down over the sheets– she was _gushing_. I’m surprised the electrode dildo stayed in, she’s so slippery. I pull the dildo out and the noises she’s making are so _decadent_ and _sensual_.

Her swollen pussy is _still_ pulsating and her moans are erratic but strong. I have to know, “Princess, are you still coming?!” She nods her head, her face the embodiment of indulgence. I can’t resist inserting my fingers, just to see how intensely her walls are clenching. The sheer force of her cunt clutching my fingers is making me dizzy with want. I move my fingers a little and she whimpers. I start to pull them out, but she groans in protest.

She cries out, “NO, Bell! Don’t stop!. I need you to fuck me. Please, I need you in me.” She starts to pinch her nipples, but they are definitely hypersensitive, so she opts to lightly graze them with her fingers instead. She whimpers again, “Bell, you _promised_ you’d fuck me into the mattress… You’ve gotta keep your promise.” I rub my free hand over my face, trying to get my head together because I’m about to be in a daze of lust for this woman. I reach over and untie the under-mattress restraints so she can move her legs. Her hips have _got_ to be aching now.

“What about your legs, Clarke?” I check them, and the color is fine. I can still slip two fingers between the ropes and her leg. It doesn’t appear to be any problems with circulation. Her feet are still normal in color. I drag my fingernail along her foot and she tries to jerk it away, “Don’t do that! Leave my foot alone!”

“Are you having any numbness or tingling?”

She scoffs, “Only tingling in my cunt because it _needs_ to be fucked, Bell. It needs you inside it. _Fill me up..._ ” Who am I to deny her?

Just as I’m about to enter her, she closes her legs, “NO!”

I recoil – I’m going to get whiplash from how quick she changes her mind.

She shakes her head, “Oh, baby, no that’s not what I meant.”

I raise an eyebrow, “What _do_ you mean, then?”

I want what you described in your texts – I want you to flip me over and fuck me into the mattress while I’m in knees-and-shoulders position.”

Okay, my dick is throbbing.

“Do you want me to untie your legs first?”

She groans, “Fuck _NO!_ I want _exactly_ what you promised! Fuck me into the mattress with my legs bound. You promised me ‘helpless,’ Bellamy. Time to deliver.”

“Give me your word, Princess.”

She huffs, clearly getting impatient, “ _CHERRIES_ , goddammit! Now manhandle me!”

She doesn’t need to ask _me_ twice (though she’ll probably point out that she begged me a number of times, so scratch that. I just needed to be sure). Just like that, the atmosphere changes. She asked for rough, so that’s what she’s getting. I grip her hips hard – they’ll most definitely bruise. I flip her to her knees and push her face into the mattress so fast it’s almost violent.

“Like this, Princess?” My voice is menacing and I can hear my own fervent reaction to her provocations. I straighten her hips out, but she’s going to have a _hell of a time_ balancing with her legs like this… I feel an involuntary wicked smirk at the thought of her struggles to stay balanced. I’m tempted to make a cruel game out her predicament, but I’m currently lacking the patience for that kind of activity.  I make a note to pursue predicament bondage with Clarke in the near future. For now, I hold her hips still for now and line my cock up with her entrance. I plunge into her hard and fast, without any warning.

“Is THIS what you want, my little slut?”  I’m still not sure if this is the right thing.

She’s breathless and the exasperation in her voice is obvious “God-fucking-dammit, YES. _Fucking yes.”_ She turns her head and she’s glaring at me. “Can you deliver or not? _”_

I give her a malicious smirk. “You asked for it, Princess.” I feel a primal urge to fuck her into oblivion. I pull out and thrust back in, brutally impaling her cunt. I establish a punishing pace, and neither of us is able to suppress the animalistic groans. Her unbridled wails are positively _feral._  

This is _really_ not what I meant in that text message, but it’s what she wants. She’s moaning like a wanton slut below me. She turns her face into the mattress and she’s biting at the sheets. I’m about to fucking blow my load, so I warn her. “Clarke, you need to come, and _fast._ I can’t last much longer like this.”

I hear her screaming into the mattress, then she turns her head to the side again, closing her eyes, her mouth in a perfect “O” shape as she lets herself go.

“Touch yourself, my little slut."  She moans gratefully at the degrading term."Come on, make yourself come. Now. I’m about to come inside you. Hard. If you want an orgasm, make it happen now. I’m fucking  _serious_.”

I think she completed the task before I even finished my commands, because I feel her cunt powerfully clenching around my cock and it does me in. I hear my own wretched groans escaping my throat as I empty myself deep inside her warm, wet cunt.

She lets her head relax into the mattress. I fling myself down on the mattress, rotating my body so I can face her, my head level with hers. She lets her ass fall down on the mattress. I pull her in for a searing kiss, which she returns with enthusiasm. After some heavy making out, I break the kiss and lean my forehead against hers…

“Holy fuck, Princess. What the fuck was that?”

She giggles, her voice breathy, “Fuck if I know, Bell. But I fucking needed it.”

I nod, still at a loss for words after what just happened... I suddenly remember that her legs are still frog-tied. I quickly untie them, pulling the rope off and setting her limbs free. She moans in relief.

“Bell?”

“Mmmhmm?

“That was fucking fantastic. But I need to fucking rest right now. Is that okay?”

I laugh, “I couldn’t think of a better idea, Princess.” I toss the towels off the bed, then grab the blankets we had unceremoniously tossed to the floor before we got started with this session. After turning off the lights, I crawl under the covers with Clarke, pulling her into a tight spoon. Her breathing is already slowed and even. She’s out like a light. I kiss the back of her neck and tell her how much I love her before succumbing to slumber myself.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... That happened... ;) 
> 
> I'm debating whether to use the next chapter to continue with their "weekend" to explore the temperature sensation play, or if I'm going to save that for later... Thoughts? 
> 
>  
> 
> Seriously, guys - your reviews give me fuel! I appreciate every one of them, so if you have a moment, please do me a solid and leave a comment :) I keep thinking after I publish each chapter that I'll go ahead and take a break. Then, I get an email alerting me to a new review, and I'm like "YESSSS" and I'm suddenly practically vibrating with ideas! 
> 
> And KUDOS! If you're enjoying this, please leave them :-)


	26. you melted the goddamn thing already!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bellamy + Clarke + ice + candles = Kinky temperature sensation play ;)
> 
> Picks up shortly after Chapter 25, told from Clarke's POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH MY GOODNESS! You guys are awesome! Thank you for your great comments - they fueled this story when I was feeling a bit stuck... 
> 
> Trigger warnings:  
> \- Erotic punishment  
> \- Rope Bondage (with the intention of helplessness)  
> \- Temperature play (ice and hot wax)  
> \- General sexual subjugation

[CLARKE POV]

I don’t know how long we’ve been asleep when I hear a knocking on the front door of the suite. Bellamy is wrapped around me, his chest to my back, our legs tangled together. I try and elbow him awake, but he just groans and tightens his arms around me. I kick his shin and elbow him, “Bell, wake up. Someone is knocking at the door!” He jerks awake and jumps out of the bed. He calls out to person outside the door, “Hold up, we’re coming.” I snort a laugh at the unintentional double entendre (Well, I _was_ coming... repeatedly). He stumbles around looking for his pants, which I find near my robe. I toss him his pants as I wrap and tie my robe around me. He gets to the door first and opens it up to be greeted by three people – two of them obviously security.

I recognize one of the gentlemen (his name tag reads “Cesar”) as one of the front desk agents. I also recognize his voice as the one who called me to inform me Bellamy had arrived earlier tonight. “Ma’am. We got several concerned calls from other guests on this floor.”

My cheeks flush a deep shade of red when I realize why they’re here. I drop my head into my hands, “Oh, fuck…”

“Someone walking in the hall actually came to the front desk. There were two other calls from rooms across the hall from yours. We tried calling your room several times, but received no answer. You might check to see if the receiver is off the hook.” I can’t even open my eyes to meet his, I just keep shaking my head. I cover my face with my hands before finally looking up. “Is everything okay, Mrs. Griffin?”

“Um, it’s _Doctor_ Griffin” (Oh shit, I just sounded exactly like my mother). “And, yes everything is just fine.” I shake my head, “I’m so, so sorry.”

Cesar nods at the two security officers and they retreat back down the hall. I feel like I’ve just been caught by the damn principal or something. Bellamy is leaning against the wall with a shit-eating grin on his face that I would love to just smack right now. “I can’t tell you how sorry I am – I’ve been separated from my boyfriend for a few days, and we were just _really, really_ happy to see each other, you know?” He nods, and looks remarkably non-judgmental. “I am glad to hear everything is okay, Dr. Griiffin. I will just ask that in the future, you two can be a little more… quiet?”

I nod, “Absolutely. Quiet. We can do quiet, can’t we babe?” I look over at Bellamy, who is doubled over in silent laughter. I roll my eyes, “Yes, we can do quiet.” I point my thumb at Bellamy, “And if this asshole doesn’t stop laughing at me like a jackass, there will be nothing _to_ quiet down.” Bellamy stands back up straight, no longer laughing and I raise an eyebrow at him. He narrows his eyes, and I have a feeling this is going to come back to bite me in the ass (possibly literally).

Cesar smiles, “I understand, Ma’am. Also, tomorrow night, the room next to yours is scheduled to be occupied, so perhaps keep that in mind Dr. Griffin?”

My eyes widen at the implication – the room next to us was empty tonight, meaning we were so fucking loud that the people who _did_ hear us had at least two walls between us and them… Fuck I’ve got to lower my volume...

I hold a finger up at Cesar, “Hold on one second, please.” I lean over to Bellamy and tell him to grab my wallet off the counter. When he hands it to me, I pull out a $50 bill to give to Cesar. “For your trouble. We will do our best to keep it down. Again, thank you for checking up on me, I do appreciate the concern.”

He closes my hand around the money, declining to accept the tip, “That’s not necessary, really. It’s just my job.”

I add a $20 to the $50 and put it in his front pocket, “Then, perhaps I can trouble you to shuffle the rooms up a bit and maybe book the one next door _last_? Like, only if there are no other rooms?”  

He nods his head with a smile, “I will do my best, Dr. Griffin.”

I smile back, “Thank you so much, Cesar.” I close the door and look through the peephole to see him shaking his head as he walks away.  

Bellamy comes behind me and wraps his arms around my front, untying my robe. As he pulls it off my shoulders, he sweeps my hair away from my left shoulder, exposing my neck to him. He brushes his lips against my neck in a way that causes goosebumps to erupt over my entire body. He nips at my earlobe before sucking at the sensitive spot on my neck just below it. I groan in response, and Bellamy covers my mouth with his hand, “Shhhh, Princess. That’s what got us into trouble…” I lean my head back on his chest, nodding my head in acknowledgement. He drops his hand from my mouth and kisses me, turning me around to face him before pinning me against the door. He runs his fingers along the undersides of my arms, still sensitive from the Zip-Strips earlier this evening. He brings my arms straight above my head, crossing one wrist in front of the other, securing them tightly with one of his large hands. I squirm against them with a sneer, just to test the tightness of his hold. He shakes his head warningly.

I smirk back at him, “I’m just testing your grip, Sir…”

He raises an eyebrow, “You have doubts about my grip, Princess?”

I shrug my shoulders, “It is late, kind of past your bedtime. I wasn’t sure if you were tired or not, that’s all.” I’m provoking him, and he knows it.

Bellamy growls and attacks my neck. In between bruising kisses, his deep voice is teasing, “Are you sure it’s a good idea to be testing me, sweetheart?” I shake my head and he laughs, “Let’s see what your insolence will get you tonight.”

I give him a challenging glare, “Am I in trouble, Sir?”

He laughs again, “Oh, Princess… You’re in all _kinds_ of trouble.”

I smirk back, “Do I get a punishment, Sir?”

He scoffs, “Do you _get_ a punishment?” He shakes his head, “I’ve really unleashed the masochist in you, haven’t I?”

I nod my head. “Well, I think I’ve earned _something_.”

“I agree. As usual, the punishment is five smacks for insolence – _each display_ of insolence.”

I nod my head, “Yes, sir.”

“You called me an asshole when you were talking to Cesar, that’s five. Oh wait, you also referred to me as a jackass, so five more. You tried to squirm out of my hold for the sole purpose of aggravating me, so add five more… How many are we up to, now?”

I shrug my shoulders, “I wasn’t listening.”

He smirks, “And we’ll add five more for that. Oh, and you implied that I’m old, so five more there… Now I believe that’s 25.”

I nod, “That’s correct, Sir.”

He nods, “Good girl. Now, I need you to be quiet because we can’t be bothering the other occupants of this floor like we have already. Can you be quiet for me, Princess?”

I nod my head, “Yes, Sir.”

Bellamy nods toward his suitcase, “Go choose the instrument I will use for your punishment and present it to me.” I hate/love when he makes me do this. It’s like telling a kid they can pick their consequence – it’s always so much more shameful to be the one to _choose_ my discipline tool. I run my fingers over the various spanking instruments he brought. I see a paddle, but I’m not inclined to choose it tonight. 25 whacks with a paddle is not something of which I want to feel the aftermath during my speech tomorrow. He also brought a few different floggers, I might have him use those on me later this weekend… I finally come across two crops. One has a wide-edged keeper (the “flap” at the end), while the other is narrow, which produces a much harsher sting. The wide-edged crop is more for “fun” play, while the narrow-edged crop is more appropriate for “punishment.” I pull out the narrow crop and bring it back out to him.

He’s sitting on the couch now, looking arrogant and smug and _dominant_. I get wet just looking at him in his element like this. He rakes his gaze up and down over my naked body as I stand in front of him, obediently presenting the crop, balanced on my outstretched open palms.

“Good girl.” ( _Fuuuuuucck…)_ He continues to have me hold it out for him, not taking it, just looking at it approvingly.

“Thank you, sir.”

“I see you chose the crop with the narrow keeper.”

“I did, Sir.”

“That’s my good girl. If you had brought the wide keeper, I would have made you go back and trade it for this one.” I nod, mentally patting myself on the back for reading his sadistic mind.

“You know why I like this crop?”

“Why, Sir?” He finally takes the crop out of my hands and holds it up, inspecting it from various angles.

“Because it produces a sharp, effective sting. Also, its small size makes it very versatile. I can inflict punishment on places other than just your delicious ass. And I can do it with great accuracy. Can’t I, Princess?”

I feel a shiver shoot through my body, “Yes, Sir. You can.”

“Do you know what _you_ like most about this?”

“About what, Sir?”

“About the punishments.”

“Besides the part where I find pleasure in the pain, Sir?”

“Yes, _besides_ that.”

I’m silent, because I’m not totally sure what he means…

“I think you like the fact that you can break a rule, endure the consequence, and know that you are completely forgiven after you take your punishment.”

I nod my head, “Yes…” I feel my eyebrows furrow as I think more about what he’s said. “That sounds accurate, actually.”

“It’s just an observation.”

“Can we put a pin in it and discuss it later?”

He chuckles, “Of course, Princess.” He points to a spot behind the couch, “Go stand right there. Spread your legs apart. You can rest your hands on the back of the couch for balance.” I quickly comply, assuming the position he ordered. He gets up to follow me. He inspects me for a solid minute, knowing that each second under his gaze makes me squirm in anticipation. He has his arms crossed over his chest in an authoritative posture.

Keeping his arms crossed, Bellamy stands behind me and taps the insides of my ankles with his toes, “Open a little wider for me, Princess.” I spread my legs a few inches wider until he taps my neck with a finger, “Good girl.” I can feel my inner thighs _dripping_ at this point. I want to squeeze them together for some friction or to at least respond to the ‘dripping’ issue, but that’s not possible with my legs spread this far apart – _(oh goddammit I just figured out why he’s got that shit-eating grin on his face. Fucker…)_

“Well-played, Sir.”

He smirks, “I know, Princess. Are you going to be a good girl?”

I groan, “You’re Pavlov-ing me.”

“You didn’t answer my question, Princess.”

I smirk, “I will be a good girl, Sir.”

“Good.” He takes the crop and lightly touches it to a spot on my ass. “In a few seconds, or maybe a few minutes… I’m going to give you four solid smacks. Right here.” The anticipation has me practically vibrating. I tense up, awaiting the promised strikes but get nothing. As soon as I start to relax, he delivers four harsh stinging smacks just as he promised, one right after the other. They hurt like a motherfucker, especially considering I didn’t have any buildup. He presses the end of the crop to a spot on my inner thigh – about halfway between my crotch and knee. He holds it there for a few seconds then delivers a lightning-quick blow right there, earning a grunt from me in reply. He continues to play the psychological anticipation angle… He lightly touches it to the inside of my other thigh, this time closer to my cunt. “Three whacks. Right here, Princess.” It feels like an eternity (though it’s likely closer to ten seconds) before he serves the three smacks… There is no doubt that the tactic of showing me _where_ he’s going to do it makes it more intense. He does it again, this time nearly in the hollow of my inner thigh, right outside my pussy lips, delivering three more stinging blows. “Have you counted?”

“Yes, sir. Eleven.”

He whispers down by my ear, “Good girl…” Then dips the crop down to my pussy, parting my folds with it and gathering up some of the obscene wetness there. He drags it back up my right side, then back down my spine, painting my skin with the undeniable evidence of my arousal. Yeah, this humiliation shit turns me on to an embarrassing degree... He presses the end of the crop to my pussy lips this time, and I’m a little freaked out about what might happen here. He’s never actually smacked me there, but I’ve told him repeatedly that I _want_ him to... He just _hasn’t_ until now. He says the number, “ _four_ ” then quickly delivers four smacks to my outer labia. I jump up onto my toes and yelp in surprise. To my surprise, it didn’t hurt as much as I thought it might. Instead, I’m left with a _hungry_ tingling sensation in my cunt. I don’t think he hit my clit, but I swear it's now _throbbing_ with want…

“Just ten smacks left, Princess.” I nod quickly. “I’m just going to give them to you hard and fast over your mouthwatering ass cheeks.”

“Yes, Sir.”

He huffs a laugh before doing exactly as he promised – he delivers ten stinging thwacks to my ass in quick succession. My mouth starts watering as tears threaten to fall, but suddenly he’s done and before I realize what’s happening, he’s massaging the lavender salve and arnica cream into my tender skin.

“Thank you.”  I feel the tears behind my eyes fall down my cheeks. 

“For what, Princess?”

I shrug my shoulders, “I think you’re right – It’s a way for me to experience forgiveness, even for something small. I can just feel… absolution.”

He nods and kisses my temple, “Good.” I lean into him for a bit. Then, he grips my hips in his hands and turns me to face him, “Now, I believe we were going to have some fun with temperature...”

I cock my head to the side with a grin, “I do recall something about that.”

He goes into the kitchen and pulls out water glasses, filling them up. He also hands me a carton of greek yogurt, instructing me to eat it, then go lay down on the bed. In the meantime, I see him disappear into the bedroom, then come back out with the bowls he had brought in before.

He shakes his head, “Uh uh uh,” (again, like he’s talking to a toddler). “No peeking, Princess. I roll my eyes and finish up my yogurt, then head back into the bedroom to relax and anticipate what he has in store for me in the realm of “temperature play.”

He follows me in a few minutes later with a bunch of towels in hand, along with some waterproof mattress liners.  

“What are those for?”

“Well, this can get messy, or really just wet. One of the downsides of using ice – it melts.”

I laugh, “Okay, got it. Don’t want to sleep in a wet bed.” We set up the bed, laying the liners down, then covering those with towels and extra sheets because, you know, aesthetics. Then I sit back down on the bed while he fetches some ropes and brings them to the bed.

“I’m going to tie you again. I think a large part of the experience for you has been the “helpless” aspect.”

I nod my head, “Agreed.”

“How are your legs feeling?”

“Um, fine.”

“Do you feel like they’d be okay to go back into a frog tie?”

I nod excitedly, “I think it’s one of my favorites so far.”

His smug smirk should piss me off, but it’s well-earned. “Noted. I’m going to tie your arms in a way that keeps them above your head. It would be awkward and eventually a little torturous to remain vertical with this kind of tie, but it’ll be more comfortable to handle when you’re on your back.”

Bellamy gets to work re-tying my legs into frog ties. He interrupts every so often to run his lips or tongue along some sensitive part of my body, such as the hollow of my neck, or grazing the tops of my breasts. As usual, he purposely neglects the most sensitive areas. My nipples are still ultra-sensitive, so I’m not sure how much stimulation they could take anyway. Next he binds my arms in “bunny ears,” where they are above my head and bent at the elbows, my hands meeting behind my head with my wrists crossed over each other.

“I’m going to get some things. You okay to stay here a few minutes?” I nod. He steps out and I hear him getting things out of the kitchen. When he comes back in, he sets down the two bowls from the kitchen earlier, the contents of which are covered. “Blindfold, Princess?”

I nod, “Yes, Sir.” He ties the blindfold around my head and my sense of sight is effectively eliminated. He positions me so that I’m laying back in the bed, my head supported by a pillow. I feel him connecting my leg ties to the under-mattress ropes, rendering it impossible to close my legs. I can’t move my arms, my legs are strapped down, and I can’t see a damn thing that’s happening. My heart races a little at this, feeling so completely helpless. It didn't bother me just hours ago, but it's getting to me now. Bellamy must be able to tell, because he begins to caress various places in my body.

I hear him whispering soothing things in my ear, “You’re good baby, you’re doing good… I got you, Princess... Take a deep breath with me...” I hear him breathe in, and I do the same, “Now blow it out, nice and slow, Princess.” We repeat the breathing exercise a few times and I feel myself relax noticeably. My heart stops pounding and the tension in my muscles dissipates.

“We good now?”

I nod, “Yes, we’re good, Sir.”

“Glad to hear it.”

It’s quiet, but I feel the bed dip next to me, so I know he just got closer. He’s running his hands all over my body. “Just warming you up…   Letting your skin feel my hands.” Next I hear him flicking a lighter. Before I can ask, he tells me, “I’m lighting a body candle. It is a wax specifically formulated to burn at a very low temperature so it’s not going to scald your skin.”

I grin, “Sounds hot.”

He chuckles, “Pun intended?”

I can’t wipe the grin off my face. “So are you going to do wax first?”

“I’m not telling. As of right now, I’m just getting the wax _warmed up_ so that it's ready to go when I feel it's time to use it. Be _patient_ , Princess.”

“Yes, Sir.”

It feels like a fucking century goes by and suddenly I feel cold water dripping onto my body. My body automatically recoils, trying to push itself farther into the bed to escape the uncomfortable frigid liquid. I pull myself together, choosing to focus exactly where I’m feeling the water drip… In the valley between my breasts… Up my neck, letting some water gather in the hollow of my throat.  I feel drops of cold water land on my lips, and my tongue reflexively darts out to taste it, allowing a few drops to land directly onto my tongue in the process. I feel the water move down my body. It drips onto my hypersensitive nipples, and the feeling is intense and delicious. My chest thrusts upwards toward the source almost by instinct, but I feel Bellamy lay his hand on my chest, gently holding me still.

Bellamy drips the water lower, landing it on various parts of my abdomen, pausing to let some of it gather in my navel. I feel drops of the cold water continue to land on my body – over my pubic bone, in the hollow of my hip bone, over my labia… When it finally lands on my exposed clit, my hips jerk. I can’t tell if my movement is to try and obtain more stimulation or if it's to try and hide myself from the shocking temperature change. Hiding myself is not an option – I am spread wide open, restrained in a defenseless pose. My pussy is literally being forced to stay open, vulnerable and exposed, displayed for his indulgence. My cunt is presented to him, to do with as he pleases… And god help me, just that idea pleases the _fuck_ out of me…

I feel him drip some of the water into my sensitive opening, thinning out the copious amounts of fluids I know for a fact are gathered there. I feel it drip down my taint and between my ass cheeks, and I squirm in discomfort. I’m glad we put the towels and stuff down, because I can tell this is going to get messy…

Then, all stimulation ceases for a few seconds. I squirm a little on the bed, just to confirm reality… The sensory deprivation, even though it’s only my eyesight, is skewing my perception of what’s around me.

I feel the bed dip toward the foot of the bed.  I know he’s gazing directly at my wide open, dripping wet pussy. I feel an ultra-cool breeze blow over my cunt, and I’m confused as to how that’s happening, then I feel him lave his tongue over my pussy lips, and it is _frigid_. He must have ice in his mouth, because that’s the only explanation for how fucking cold his tongue is right now. He moves his ministrations closer and closer to my clit, but as always, avoiding it. I buck my hips and I actually succeed for a fraction of a second at getting him to graze my clit with his tongue. He growls and pins my hips down with his forearms. He makes an admonishing grunting noise, so I apologize, “I’m sorry, Sir, for being impatient.”

Bellamy huffs a soft laugh. My guess is that he’s trying to keep the ice in his mouth, which is why he’s not speaking. I’m squirming underneath his grip, but making sure to not actually move away from it. It’s just so hard to sit still when he’s _right there_. When I stop wiggling, he rewards me by flicking his freezing cold tongue over my clit, and it feels fucking _wonderful_. I muffle my groan by biting my own lips, trying to keep myself from crying out. He laves his tongue over my clit now, sucking it into his mouth a few times, and I feel the actual ice cube rub against it briefly, causing a shock of icy pleasure to shoot through my entire body. He spears my cunt with his cold tongue. Suddenly, his tongue is impossibly _colder_ inside of me. It takes me a second to figure it out, but he’s just used his tongue to insert the ice cube fully into my cunt. I feel the ice melting inside of me. I was worried it would be painful, but it isn’t. It’s just _there_ in a very stimulating way. He goes back to writhing his tongue around inside of me, then replaces it with his fingers. When his fingers reach deeper, I feel them displace some of the water that has gathered from the melted ice. He flicks my clit with his tongue again, and the stimulation almost does me in.

“Does my Princess want to come?” His voice is low and graveled, and I didn’t realize until now how quiet he has been for the last ten minutes.”

“Holy fuck _, yes… Please,_ Sir, let me come…” I must be crying actual tears because I can feel a wet spot on my blindfold.  

“You’ve been patient… _You may come, Princess_.” Without further delay, Bellamy sucks my clit into his mouth and tugs with the perfect amount of suction to have me completely undone. I can’t keep my moans and rapturous exclamations quiet. My words are a hundred percent gibberish...

He keeps tongue-fucking me through my orgasm, but I’m eventually begging him to stop, “Please, no more… it’s too much.” He backs off, and starts dragging his tongue back up my torso. He removes his fingers from my pussy and I feel a rush of liquid gush out of it – the ice has likely completely melted inside of me. Having made his way back up my body, he cradles my face with his (cold) hand and kisses me deeply. His tongue is nearly back to its normal state of warmth by now, but still slightly cooler than usual.

He breaks the kiss, and I can _feel_ the smug grin on his face, “You like that?”

I nod vigorously, “Yes, Sir. I liked that _a lot._ ” I giggle when he licks at the sensitive spot on my neck, right below my ear…

He whispers against my skin, “Good… I’m not done with you yet, Princess.”

“Is that right? By all means…”

I feel him move off the bed briefly before he comes back and sits beside me. After a few seconds of tortuous waiting, I feel a near-shocking warmth of dripping wax on the top of my cleavage. He lets it cool off, continuing to drip it onto the top of my other breast. He’s staying away from my sensitized nipples for now. I’m not sure if that’s something I appreciate right now, because at this point, they are finally _aching_ for some attention… Next, I feel wax dripping onto my abdomen, then around my navel. As it hardens, I feel it shrinking slightly, raising itself off my skin if I stretch the area with movement. He returns to the now-hardened wax at the top of my breasts. He peels the wax away from the skin, then caresses the newly sensitive skin with a cold but gentle tongue. He must be sucking on ice again. The sensation of going from a nearly-searing heat to a chilled tongue is delightful. He blows on the skin as a final touch… He licks his way down my torso, repeating the process on all the areas he coated in wax, ending with my navel.

After he’s sufficiently stimulated the “less sensitive” areas of skin, he moves on to my ultra-sensitive nipples.

After a few moments of absence of stimulation, I feel the wax land on my right breast, _right next_ to my nipple. And _holy fuck_ , I almost climax right then and there. He continues slowly trickling the wax until it touches and coats my nipple. I feel it harden like a pebble underneath the solidifying substance, and even after the wax has hardened, my nipple continues to become more erect, effectively pulling my skin away from the solid wax. I shiver with delight as I moan in appreciation.

Bellamy’s voice is serious, “Was that too painful?”

I shake my head, “No, no, no, it is fucking _perfect_ , baby.”

I can hear the smug smirk in his voice, “So, you’d like me to give some attention to your other tit, then?” _Goddammit, he’s going to make me beg for it… I definitely shouldn’t have sounded so eager just now._

I huff, “Yes, I would.”

“I want to hear you beg and plead for it, Princess. Properly.” ( _Fucker_ )

I bite my lip, knowing it gets him worked up, softening the figurative battlefield. “Sir, please, _please_ play with my other tit… It doesn’t want to feel left out.” I pout a bit just to get the point across. With an amused laugh, he fulfills my request. I feel the molten wax pour over my other nipple, making me hiss in response to the intense sensations it creates.

I feel a breath on my breast just before he uses his tongue to pry the hardened wax away from my right nipple. He doesn’t completely detach it from my skin, just slips his tongue in to gently stroke the flesh underneath. I’m so hypersensitive there, the sensations travel straight to my clit, which is throbbing with almost excruciating intensity. I attempt to buck my hips up, but the current restraints make it all but impossible to gain any friction. I don’t expect him to be paying any attention to my pussy at this point, so when he dips his fingers into my cunt I gasp in surprise. When he pulls his fingers out, all coated in my juices, and rubs gentle circles on my achingly sensitive clit, I can’t suppress the grateful moan that escapes me. His mouth travels back up to my neck, and I know he’s leaving a fuck ton of his marks on me.

“Oh, fuck… Bell, if you don’t stop I’m going to come…”

He shakes his head against my neck, “No, you won’t. I didn’t give you permission, Princess. You’re strong, you can hold it off.”

I whimper in frustration, _“Pease._ ”

He just shakes his head again, not letting up on the stimulation of my clit, returning his mouth to my neck and sucking on the spots he knows are most sensitive. The strokes on my clit are absolutely maddening. He’s right, I can hold it off. He’s edging me with impeccable skill. The pressure is coiling in my abdomen as a sensation floods my body that can only be described as _controlled ecstasy_. It gently rolls through my body, starting at the core of my abdomen, moving to my chest then outward, as if pure pleasure is being pumped by my heart through my arteries, spreading to every part of my body. I can feel it on my lips, my fingertips, my toes… It’s not an orgasm, it’s something else. As it continues, the buildup to orgasm is inevitable, and holding off my climax is what becomes so _agonizing._ It is torture to experience this intense pleasure, but not being allowed to fully give in.

I feel tears flood my eyes, _“Please,_ either stop or let me come _… please… it’s too much!”_

He keeps caressing my clit, but removes his mouth from my neck. A few moments later, he ceases the movement of his fingers on my clit. I let out a relieved sigh. I feel him dip his fingers back into my cunt, and I can _hear_ how wet I am down there. My breath hitches when I hear the wet suckling sound as he removes his fingers. Then, I feel his fingers on my face, painting my cheeks and lips with my own juices. My tongue instinctively darts out to taste it, and I suddenly feel Bellamy’s mouth meet mine. He plunges his tongue into my mouth and languidly explores me with it. Despite its seemingly relaxed pace, this is one of those kisses that sends jolts of electricity through my body with every movement… I feel my heart start to race… I moan in protest when he breaks the kiss.

He whispers breathlessly against my skin, _“_ You’re so fucking beautiful, Clarke _…_ You’re doing so well, baby…” I nod my head, biting my lip to try and quash the moans that beg to escape me. “I love you so much…”

I groan, _“_ Fuck, I love you… You make feel so fucking incredible. _”_

He drops his mouth back to my breasts. He uses his tongue to completely detach the wax from my right nipple and I feel a sudden freezing shock that causes my entire body to seize up in surprise. He chuckles as I’m realizing he just dribbled some icy water onto the newly exposed skin. Then he touches the actual dripping ice cube to my nipple and I hiss in response to the intense chill. He only touches the ice to my skin a few times, careful not to be overzealous with my ridiculously oversensitive flesh. Rather than immediately repeat the treatment to my left nipple, he stops. I feel him reach over to grab something, then suddenly I feel the molten wax dripping onto the bare skin above my pubic bone. He continues to drip the wax over my outer labia, and I seize up in surprise. It doesn’t hurt, I just didn’t expect it. The hot wax is immediately followed by an ice cube that hardens the substance quickly.

After that detour, he returns to my left nipple, sneaking his tongue between the wax and my nipple, completely detaching it. He flicks it off and immediately touches it with a dripping ice cube, skipping the “cold water” step. I yelp in surprise and he chuckles at my response. “Calm down, Princess _… I got you_.”

I nod, “It didn’t hurt, just surprised me. I was thinking you were going to drip some cold water over it first.”

He laughs darkly, “You know I like to keep you on your toes, Princess.” He chuckles as he moves off the bed. “I’ll be right back, I’m grabbing something from the kitchen.” I nod my head. He opens either the fridge or freezer and by the time I hear it close, he’s back in the room.

He goes back down and I feel his cold tongue teasing my labia, beginning to detach the wax from my swollen pussy lips. I giggle, which turns into a throaty moan when he dips his tongue into my cunt to lap up the juices that have been gathering there. As soon as he removes his tongue, I can feel more of them oozing out, which must be embarrassingly visible because he chuckles, “Fuck, Princess… you’re dripping for me.” I nod frantically, again biting my lip to stifle the aroused groans threatening to break out of me. I feel him insert a finger, just barely. He just keeps it there, which he _knows_ drives me crazy. Then, I feel the melted wax again, dripping over my labia, but this time he keeps dripping it closer and closer to my slit, until I feel it dribbling over it, covering it up completely. At some point, he must have removed the finger and moved it to cover my clit. When I clench my inner walls, I feel the already-hardening wax at my entrance, and it’s a completely bizarre feeling.

I furrow my brows, “How is it not, like burning the fuck out of me?”

He chuckles, “Because it’s a low-heat wax. Like I said, I don’t want to scald you or cause blistering… I would _never_ do this with a regular candle.”

I nod my head, “Okay… well, it feels really good…”  

I feel him nip my inner thigh, then whisper into my skin, “Good… I’m not done yet.” I feel a shiver go through me.

After a few moments, I feel him carefully and slowly prying the wax off of my outer labia, soothing the newly exposed skin with gentle strokes of his velvety tongue. I’m groaning with delight. One of his hands is exploring my body while he works, barely grazing my nipples, keeping them in an ever-erect state. His other hand is passively assisting his tongue, holding the pieces of wax as he uses his fleshy muscle to peel the wax off of my cunt. Then, his “exploring” hand pulls away from my body briefly, only to return with a large piece of ice. Much larger than an ice cube... It’s dripping water already as he rubs all over my body, from my shoulders, over my breasts (avoiding my nipples), down my navel and back up again… I realize it is somewhat _long_ when he rests it briefly on my abdomen.

I have to ask, “Is that a… dildo?”

He laughs, “Yes, made of ice.”

“Ice dildo. That’s… creative.”

The cold sensations briefly distract me from whatever he’s doing to my cunt, until I feel him insert his tongue _into_ my cunt to dislodge the now-hardened wax. As he pulls it away, I feel a fresh wave of my own juices trickle out immediately. He chuckles, _“So goddamn wet…”_

I nod, “You have that effect, Sir.”  

Suddenly, I feel the ice dildo traveling down from my navel toward my now fully exposed cunt. He draws a tortuous circle around my pussy, touching the icy surface to my clit a few times, just _briefly_. Then, I feel the shaft make its way to my entrance and I’m squirming with anticipation. He just rests it near my slit, not entering. I groan, _“Please, Sir_.”

He chuckles, “What do you want, Princess?”

I huff in frustration, “I want you to push it into me.”

“Just _into_ you? Anywhere? Like in your mouth?”

I groan. “No, Sir. I want you to put it in my cunt.”

He acts like he’s giving it some thought, “Hmmm… like this?” He just barely puts the tip in, and the sensation is powerful. Going from being deeply heated to freezing like this is almost confusing. Still, he hasn’t advanced it more than an inch, I swear.

“ _More…”_

“Can my little slut ask _nicely_?”

“Please, sir, put more inside me.”

“Like this?” He inserts another inch or so.

 _“More, please, sir.”_ He pulls it out abruptly and replaces it with a smooth, warm shaft. “What is _that?”_

“Pyrex dildo. Warmed. You like it?”

I nod, “Yeah, between that and the ice… _holy fuck…_ ”

He chuckles, then switches out the warm shaft for the ice one. “How about this?” I feel him enter a few inches this time, but still not filling me up.

“Is there more you can give, Sir?” I feel him pump it in and out a few times before replacing it with the warmed shaft.

“I can, Princess…”

“Please, please can you give me more, Sir?”

He laughs darkly as he pulls out the warm shaft and immediately replaces it. I feel him completely sheath the ice dildo inside of me and I cry out in surprise, _“Oh, fuck!”_ My cunt is pulsing around it, as if it’s confused and trying to make sense of the constant change in sensation. He thrusts the shaft in and out a few times, and I can feel it melting inside of me, causing copious amounts of fluid to leak out of my cunt. Then, without warning, I feel molten wax engulf my sorely neglected clit and I shriek from the bewildering combination of pleasure and pain. Having been given no warning, I am completely incapable of holding back the powerful orgasm that rips through me as I feel my inner walls clench violently around the shaft, drawing it in completely. Judging by Bellamy’s gasp, he didn’t expect my pussy to swallow up and _steal_ the ice dildo...

The pulsations of my pussy send fluids gushing out of me and the sensation of the cool liquids trickling between my ass cheeks makes my entire body seize up in surprise. I feel him lick the hardened wax off my clit, then he soothes the sensitive nub with gentle strokes of his tongue as he keeps tongue-fucking me through my orgasm. Just as my orgasm is finally waning, he closes his lips over my clit and draws it into his mouth, still gently stroking it with the tip of his tongue while lightly tugging at it, ultimately eliciting another climax and seemingly unending satisfied cries from me. He finally releases my clit and slides his fingers into my pussy.

“Holy shit, Clarke… You melted the goddamn thing already.”

I’m too breathless to give an actual worded response, so I just groan and nod. My chest is heaving and I can feel myself pulling forcefully at my restraints as Bellamy’s deep voice coaxes me to relax. _“_ Okay, Princess… relax your limbs for me… Deep breaths, baby… _”_ After a few minutes, I’ve relaxed to his satisfaction.

“Oh my god, Bell, that was fucking amazing.”

His quiet laugh is almost menacing as he whispers in my ear, “Oh, Princess… I’m not finished yet…” He must find it even more amusing when I gasp because he keeps laughing. “No… no. I still haven’t come yet. And I’m so fucking hard for you right now _.”_

I groan as I feel his body hover over mine. “Oh, god Bell… Please, fuck me.”

“Oh, sweetheart, I plan on it… I’m gonna fuck you hard, Princess…” I’m trying to wiggle underneath him, but my restraints are precluding any success at doing so… He chuckles at my attempts, _“_ Patience, Princess… Patience _.”_

I whimper, “Please,”

He snakes a hand between us and starts stroking small, gentle circles over my clit. Again, at a pace that has me edging quickly. It’s not enough to actually send me over, but it’s building…

 _“_ Do you have any idea how fucking beautiful you are like this?”

I’m thrashing my head from side to side, _“Tell me…”_

“You’re helpless... Bound and blindfolded… Mine… I made you this way, didn’t I? I’m nodding furiously. “ _Y_ our arms are useless, tied up. Your legs are spread open, restrained so that your pretty little cunt is displayed to me… It’s like you’re a gift _…_ A writhing, desperate, slutty little gift, all tied up for me…”

I’m groaning shamelessly at this point. He’s still stroking my clit at an infuriatingly slow pace, and I’m aching to have him inside of me. _“_ God… Bell, just fuck me…”

His voice gets serious, “Princess. I will fuck you when I _want_ to fuck you. When I think you’re _ready_ to be fucked _._ ” I nod and fall into line quickly. “But don't worry too much. I’m going to fuck the hell out of your pretty, slutty little cunt, Princess…”

I bite my lip so hard I draw blood. The coppery taste is unexpected and my breath hitches at the unanticipated flavor. He quickens the pace of his strokes on my clit and if I wasn’t so tied down, I would be writhing uncontrollably. “Oh, god… I’m gonna come if you don’t stop! Please…”

“Don’t you fucking _dare_ , Princess.”

He pulls off the blindfold and I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to focus on _anything_ but the unbearable pleasure coiling inside of me. Bellamy cups the back of my head and pulls me into a searing kiss, swallowing my moans and whimpers. I desperately wish my arms were free so I could tangle my fingers in his hair, so I could pull on it and convey my frustration at being tortured like this. Let him _feel_ the exasperation of denied an orgasm that is so desperately building inside of me.

“Open your eyes, Clarke.” I open them and his gaze is tearing into me, pulling me apart layer by layer. Suddenly he plunges his cock deep into my starving cunt. I didn’t realize how cold I was in there until he sheathed his rock hard shaft inside of me. The sudden penetration combined with the drastic temperature change and his excruciatingly effective strokes on my clit sends me over the edge, again, without warning. He pulls me into another mind-numbing kiss as my orgasm _brutally_ rips through my body. I feel myself seizing in pleasure as I’m consumed by blinding ecstasy.

Bellamy keeps thrusting into me, fucking me through yet another mind-blowing orgasm. I’m at a point where I can’t tell where one orgasm stops and the other begins, because they just keep coming as he adjusts his angle, then changes his speed, then alters the force with which he snaps his hips into me. I find my limbs falling completely limp and useless (not that they were useful to begin with, being restrained and all).  I succumb to a state of ecstasy, where I can only _feel_ Bellamy. I’m surrounded by _him_ – his body, his kisses, his scent, his voice… I feel like he’s both inside me and surrounding me. I feel him come inside of me and my state of relaxation deepens even further. I lose my grip on my surroundings and let myself drift away into oblivion…

 

* * *

 

[Bellamy POV]

I can’t help but be ridiculously proud of myself for getting Clarke into subspace again. She’s in a trance and she’s so damn beautiful like this. As usual, she's uttering random nonsense in her haze.  It’s become a favorite pastime of ours to recount all the absurd things she comes up with in her reverie.

Honestly, it was borderline bizarre when I entered her, feeling such _cold_ walls clenching around my cock. She warmed up quickly as I fucked her, though. It was excruciatingly difficult to maintain composure when the first thing I experienced upon entering her was the pulsating contractions of her inner walls, threatening to end everything before it even got started. In that respect, the “cold” attribute was helpful.

After fucking her through several orgasms, she is blissed out and in a haze. Once I recover, I promptly untie her limbs, gently caressing different parts of her body in the process, maintaining gentle contact with her body. She was practically _purring_ when I finished. I cover her up with a blanket before she starts shivering, then maneuver her body so that I can I strip the towels and liners.  I'm thankful I had the wherewithal to prep the bed _before_ the ice play, or we’d be camping out on the floor. Sleeping on a wet mattress is not something I’ll do willingly.

I think we were able to keep the noise to a manageable level this go-around. It was fucking hilarious to witness Clarke’s response as she realized just how _loud_ she was earlier tonight. I honestly didn’t mind one bit. I was downright impressed that we managed to be heard by occupants of rooms _across the hall_. Those people weren’t even sharing walls with us. I mean, I feel apologetic for being disruptive to our neighbors, but I’m still proud of the accomplishment. It also makes me grateful that my own home doesn't share walls with anyone, so Clarke can be as loud as she wants to be when we’re playing there.

After I get the bed ready, I glance at the clock and see that it’s already three in the morning. I set an alarm for 11:30 so Clarke has time to shower and put makeup over all of the marks I left tonight… I feel a little guilty, knowing she has to do a presentation in front of her peers, so I’m glad she has ways to effectively hide the evidence… I still get a primal, territorial thrill knowing that she’s got _my_ marks underneath all that makeup.

I turn the lights off and slide into the bed behind Clarke, giving her mini massages as she whispers nonsense peppered with words of affection. I speak quietly with her until she falls asleep, telling her how good she was tonight… How happy she makes me… How perfect she is… How much I fucking love her. I fall asleep soon after she does, completely fucking spent and looking forward to all our time together this weekend…

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick Kink PSA: Please, _never, ever, EVER_ use a regular decorative candle for wax play near the genitals. You can do some serious damage with high temperatures (and the candles that are "long-burning" often burn very very hot, so keep that in mind). 
> 
> Your COMMENTS are like fuel to my creative fire ~ I was in a bit of a writing funk this week, finding myself a bit "stuck," but I went back and read the reviews and they were seriously motivating. 
> 
> Also, if you're enjoying this and you haven't already left KUDOS, please do so :-) They make me irrationally happy! 
> 
> Thank you to all my loyal readers for sticking with me! I'm thoroughly enjoying writing this fic, and it's 100% because of all your feedback!


	27. we need ice cream. a lot of fucking ice cream.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke & Octavia history and some bonding moments (with some angst peppered in).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys! You are all awesome! Thank you all for your wonderful feedback ~ It means the world to me, really. 
> 
> I've had Octavia's character arc (and this chapter, in particular) in mind since I decided to expand this fic beyond the original "smutty one-shot." It's taken many, many chapters to get here... 
> 
> There's a lot of medical jargon in the dialogue, particularly when Clarke is talking with her colleagues. If you keep reading through it, I try to explain the situation in more understandable terms, but I'm not sure how successful I was at that. I wanted to keep the dialogue between the doctors as close-to-real-life as possible. 
> 
> *Triggers* - Just medical jargon and some angst.

[Clarke POV]

I’ve been in private practice for a few months now. I love it. It’s like the best of both worlds – I have hospital privileges, and I still spend about half my time there, but I have my own _space_ now. There’s something wonderful about having my own office to which I can retreat. I still have my on-call days, but I have much more autonomy in my schedule. I’m one of two doctors in our practice who is board-certified in Maternal-Fetal Medicine (MFM), so I take care of a lot of high-risk patients. Most practices don’t have MFM specialists, and the ones that _do_ usually have only one. Thanks to the fact that our practice has _two_ MFM specialists, and our long-established good reputation, we attract a lot of high-profile patients and legitimately interesting cases.

Today I’m in the office. I’m finishing up dictation for the patients I saw today, updating charts, checking labs, etc. I get a phone call directly to my office from Octavia, saying she needs to see me immediately. I tell her I’m free for the rest of the afternoon, so she tells me she’s on her way now. Twenty minutes later, I hear Octavia chatting politely with the receptionist who is leading her down the hall. I get up and meet her at the door and she wraps her arms around me in a strong hug, which I return enthusiastically. We had some tension earlier this summer when Bellamy and I first started seeing each other, but we moved past it and I’m so glad to have her back in my life.

* * *

 

_Flashback: Early Summer 2015_

_My cell phone rings and an image of a young Octavia pops up. Although I changed my number, I transferred all my old contacts. I assume she got my new number from Bellamy. It would have been nice to have a heads-up. Octavia is fiercely protective of Bellamy, and has been infamously awful to the women who were romantically involved with him. Granted, he had a revolving door of bitches back then, and neither Octavia nor I thought very highly of any of them. I heard from more than one source that she was one of the big reasons that Roma and Bellamy didn’t pan out as a couple. I didn’t ask for details because their relationship was a sore spot for me for a long time, but I understood the gist: Octavia didn’t approve, so she scared her away._

_O is five years younger than Bellamy. Aurora, their mother, passed away when Bellamy was just 18, leaving him to care for an emotionally turbulent 13-year old girl. Aurora had a lot on her plate when Bellamy and Octavia were growing up, working several jobs to keep everyone fed and clothed. It wasn’t until Bellamy’s senior year of high school that things started looking up for them. Aurora finally landed a well-paying job as paralegal in a law firm and was able to start setting money aside for college. Halfway into Bellamy’s freshman year of college, she was diagnosed with cancer. She passed away six months later in the summer before Bellamy’s sophomore year of college. He took custody of Octavia. Thanks to her employer, Aurora had a sizeable life-insurance policy that enabled Bellamy to fund both his and Octavia’s education._

_Octavia has always been a spitfire. Because of circumstances, she and Bellamy were very close, so it’s understandable that she would be protective of her brother… Which is why I’m honest to god afraid about what she has to say. I consider letting it go to voicemail and calling her back after I have some time to talk to Bellamy, but I figure it’s about time I talk to her, and I really do want to hear her voice. I clear my throat and pick up the call._

_“Hello?”_

_“It’s Octavia.” (No ‘Hi Clarke, how are you?’ She gets straight to the point, as always)._

_I try to hide the nervousness in my voice, “Hi. Wow, it’s been a while.”_

_She snorts, “Well, that’s not my fault, is it?” (Okay, she’s miffed. Bullshit doesn’t fly with her. It reminds me of talking to a pissed-off Alex… Time to just be straight with her.)_

_“No, O. It’s not your fault. It’s mine. I’m sorry.”_

_She pauses for a minute. “Obviously, I got your number from Bellamy. To his credit, he was reluctant to give it to me. I basically coerced him. But I won’t share it with anyone. I just have some things to say, and I need to say them now.”_

_“Well, I’m all ears.” She’s got her ‘business voice’ on, and I have a feeling she’s going to rip into me…_

_“You fucked him up when you disappeared on us, Clarke.”_

_I sigh, “I know that now, Octavia. I had no idea at the time that it would hurt him as much as it did.”_

_“Well, it did. Honestly, it kind of pissed me off that you would come back in after all this time. I don’t want you getting his hopes up then fucking him over.”_

_“Octavia, I won’t. We’ve only been ‘together’ for a few months now, but I know that I’m in it for the long haul, and I think he is, too.”_

_“Good. Because if you hurt him again, I will end you, Clarke.” _

_I want to get defensive right now, but that won’t get me anywhere with Octavia. Earning her respect requires taking accountability. “I hear you, Octavia. This isn’t just a fling for me, okay. He’s it for me. Truthfully, he’s been ‘it’ for me for a long, long time. Yeah, we hurt each other in the past, but this is different. We’re both at a place where we can give this an honest chance.”_

_“Alright. Well, I’ve said my piece.”_

_“It’s good to hear your voice, O.”_

_“I missed you, Clarke. I’m mad at you for leaving, but I still missed you. And I_ am _glad you’re back.”_

_“I understand the being mad. But I hope you’ll hear me out eventually and you can understand why I had to do what I did.”_

_“I think I get it, Clarke. Bell told me a lot of things. It might take a while to digest it all, you know?”_

_“Yeah. Do you want to get coffee soon?”_

_“I’m actually in Washington right now. Lincoln and I have been traveling a lot. I called because I don’t want to spend my trip wondering if I need to chew you out or not.” She laughs, and I’m hoping that she got what she needed out of this call. “We get back in three weeks. Let’s get together then?”_

_“I’d like that.”_

_“I’m gonna get going. We’re on a mountain top, and I’ve got great cell reception here. But, Lincoln is going to shoot me if I don’t put the phone down and enjoy this view.”_

_“Enjoy, then. I’ll talk to you later.”_

_“Bye, Clarke.”_

* * *

 

After Octavia releases me from the hug, I get a good look at her. Her eyes are swollen like she’s been crying. I have her sit on the couch in my office and I take a seat next to her.

“Talk to me, Octavia. What’s going on?”

She takes a deep breath. “I’m pregnant, Clarke.”

I feel an excited smile spread across my face, “Oh my god, O. That’s so great! You and Lincoln must be so excited.”

She shakes her head. “I haven’t told Lincoln.”

“Okay. What’s happening? Are you guys not in a good place right now?”

“No, that’s not it at all. Lincoln is great. _We’re_ great. I just found out, like an hour ago. I can’t believe this. You remember – I’ve had irregular periods for as long as I can remember. About a year and a half ago, Lincoln and I decided to start trying for a baby. I went off birth control and we went at it like rabbits, but we’ve had no luck so far. Well, until now I guess.”

I take her hand into mine. “Go on.”

“So, I hadn’t thought about the fact that I haven’t had a period in like, months, right?”

“Okay… It’s really not that uncommon for busy women to fall behind on these things.” I’m trying to be reassuring because it looks like she’s being really hard on herself already.

She continues, speaking a mile a minute… “So anyway, I noticed I was having weird cravings for shit, so I’ve been eating weird things. And I started to notice this.” She stands up and lifts her shirt revealing an undeniable bump. She grabs my hands and places them on her belly and I immediately feel that her uterus is very much _there_. In a non-pregnant woman, you can’t typically feel her uterus by palpating. It’s a small anatomical object that’s buried in the pelvis. This is not the case with Octavia.  

I nod, “I take it that’s not a tumor or anything.”

She laughs, “No, it’s a fucking baby in there.”

“Octavia, that’s great!” I’m still palpating her uterus, trying to get a feel for how far along she might be and a million other answers to questions I haven’t even started to ask yet. “Do you know how far along you are?”

“I don’t have an exact date, and I was in my regular doctor’s office. I don’t have an OB/GYN here because I’ve always just used my PCP for well-woman checks and all that shit. I feel like such a goddamn idiot, Clarke! How did I not see my belly growing? But it seemed to just pop up overnight. I swear I woke up this morning and bam! Basketball in my belly. I went straight to the doctor, and she thought this “mass” in my abdomen should be checked out, so they did an ultrasound, and found a baby there. They actually referred me here because they saw something on my ultrasound that was abnormal. ‘Placenta something or other’ they said.” She starts tearing up. “I all I heard was ‘abnormal’ and I got tunnel vision, Clarke.”

She takes a deep breath.

“Do you mind if I take a look at the little one with an ultrasound? I can bring a colleague in, too.”

She nods her head, wiping tears from her eyes, “I would really appreciate it, actually. They were _not_ helpful at my doctor’s office.”

I check with the schedule to make sure I can commandeer one of the ultrasound rooms. As Octavia and I are walking down the hall to the Ultrasound room, we come across one of my colleagues. Everyone in our office refers to him by his last name, Walsh. “Octavia, this is Dr. Walsh. He’s the other MD who is board-certified in MFM in our practice.” Walsh stops to participate in the introductions. “Octavia is Bellamy’s sister.” Walsh knows Bellamy, as he’s walked in on our impromptu lunch time make-out sessions on more than one occasion.”  

Octavia pipes up, “I just found out I’m pregnant, a little late I think. It’s a long story. I asked Clarke if she could explain the ultrasound to me better.”

I add, “Apparently the ultrasound tech wasn’t all that helpful.”

Walsh smiles, “Well, you’re in good hands - that’s one of Griffin’s fortes. I have a patient waiting, but it was nice meeting you Octavia.”

I direct O into the room and start up the monitor. A nurse comes in to take some vital signs and get information from her for medical records.

Octavia asks, “Clarke, is it okay with you that I’m a patient here? I don’t want you to be uncomfortable or anything. I know there are rules about treating friends and family.”

I nod, “That is true. There are ethics codes about treating friends and family, and I don’t want to violate your trust or the conditions of my medical license.   I’m not going to lie, this practice is probably your best bet if you have a high-risk pregnancy. We have a top-notch reputation for a reason. Furthermore, if you _are_ in fact high-risk, this may be your only option. If you decide to be a patient here, I can be on your treatment team, if you wish. But I shouldn’t be your only doc, or even your primary doc.”

She nods quickly. “That sounds ideal, really. Like, being able to have you be part of the team is something that’s important. If it means that other people have to be involved, fine. But I want you part of this, Clarke. I trust you.”

I nod, blinking back tears, “Octavia, you have no idea how much it means to me that you feel that way.”

She grabs hold of my hand, “We’re good. We’ve got this, Clarke.”

I laugh, “I’m the one who’s supposed to say that, O.”

She rolls her eyes with a grin, “Yeah, yeah, whatever..."

Octavia just sheds her jeans (she never was shy about her body) and hops on the table. I squirt the gel onto her belly after the machine is turned on. As I move the ultrasound probe around, I pull the image up on a large screen so I can show her what I’m seeing. I feel as excited as she does when I locate the baby. Holy fuck, scratch that. _Babies_.

“Oh, wow… look at that.”

She spits out question after question, “Look at what? What the fuck am I looking at? Are those circles the baby? Why is there a line there? It looks like it’s cutting my baby in half – oh my god, Clarke, is my baby cut in half?”

I give her a reassuring smile, “Slow down, O.” I point at the screen with a grin, “You’re looking at two babies, Octavia.”

Her mouth drops open. “Holy. Mother. Fucking. Shit... Twins?”

I nod with a smile, “Yeah, definitely twins. And that line you see between them shows that there are two amniotic sacs.”

“So they have different ‘sacs,’ does that mean they’re _not_ identical?”

“Let me find the placenta or placentas… The fact that the ‘dividing line’ was so thin leads me to believe that these are monozygotic twins – also known as identical twins.” I freeze several images as I go, taking measurements of various fetal landmarks.

As I move the probe along her abdomen in search of the placenta, I realize that I’m moving really far down, near the bottom of the uterus, and my heart starts to sink a little. This is placenta previa, which means that the placenta is in the way of the birth canal. In these situations, vaginal delivery can result in massive hemorrhage. With appropriate management, the outcomes are generally fine. It just makes this officially “high risk.” Furthermore, based on what I’m seeing now, the placenta already looks like it could be embedded too far into her uterus, which is an even bigger problem. Before giving her any potentially bad news, I have to consult with Walsh. I keep my game face on in the meantime, and I’m at least able to confirm that there is only one placenta. “Yeah, MCDA. That stands for monochorionic diamniotic fetuses.”

Octavia raises an eyebrow, “In English, doc?”

I nod, laughing at myself, “It means that they share a placenta, but they have their own amniotic sacs.”

She nods. “Fucking twins... Holy _fuck,_ Clarke, I have two babies in there. _Two_!” She’s _ecstatic_. I squeeze her hand and she pulls me in for a tight hug. “Can you tell how far along I am?”

“Well, based on crown-rump length, basically meaning from the head to the butt, I would estimate at least 13 weeks, already. Possibly more, but I’d need to take more measurements.” I pause to think for a minute about how I can go get Walsh without raising any alarms just yet. The last thing I want to do is freak her out and have to leave her alone in the room to retrieve my colleague. “Hey, O. I’m gonna go ask Walsh to come in and see these little peanuts – we love twins. You cool to sit here for a few?”

She nods, “Yeah, I’m good. I’ll be here.” She’s absolutely elated. She and Lincoln have apparently been trying for a while, and they’d hit a plateau of sorts. I can imagine she feels doubly blessed right now.

 

I calmly leave the room, but as soon as the door is closed I book it to Walsh’s office. Thankfully he’s at his desk. “Walsh, I need you to pull up the most recent ultrasound images from room two.” He quickly pulls them up. “Now, tell me, what do you see?”

He examines the images quickly. “Twins, obviously. MCDA.”

I nod, “I concur. Anything else?”

He studies the images again, “The placental attachment is not ideal. What surface are we looking at here?”

“Anterior surface, low-lying.”

He nods, “Yeah, that’s the cervix, immediately proximal to the placental attachment.”

“Yes.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah…” I sigh, “There’s more. I know it’s early, but look at the Doppler images – particularly the vascular attachments.”

He frowns, “I don’t like how deep they reach into the uterine wall. So we’re looking at placenta previa and possible placenta accreta…”

I’m shaking my head, “Double fuck, right?”

Walsh twists his mouth to the side, “Yeah… That about sums it up. What’s the history?”

“Well, she’s 28. First pregnancy. She and her husband have been trying for a while, starting about a year and a half ago, but hadn’t had any luck. They had kind of given up.”

“What’s her LMP [last menstrual period]?”

“She isn’t sure.”

He sighs, “Great, one of those.” I should explain. It’s frustrating when we get pregnant women who don’t keep track of their periods. A lot of docs assume that a woman who doesn’t keep track of her periods tends to be undependable in other areas of life. The concern is that they might have more difficulty with maintaining healthy habits during pregnancy.

I cut in, “I know what you’re thinking, but she’s _not_ an irresponsible person. Just preoccupied lately. I can attest, she’s had highly irregular periods her entire life when she wasn’t on birth control. Once she discontinued her birth control, it went back to sporadic menstruation.”

Walsh continues, “What’s her health history otherwise?”

I laugh, “She’s actually a perfect specimen of health. She and her husband are super health nuts. Like ‘your body is a temple.’”

He nods, “Well, that’s promising. Let’s go in and talk to her. Do you have suggestions on how to tell her? You know her.”

I shake my head. “Octavia is like a human lie detector. Although, she’s so excited about this, her ability to ‘detect lies’ may be skewed. But I digress… She doesn’t appreciate bullshit. Don’t beat around the bush. We’ve gotta give it to her straight. God, I really hate to rain on her parade. She’s so excited about this.”

He nods in understanding, “Got it.” He and I go back to the exam room to talk with Octavia.

He comes in and smiles, “Octavia. I was just looking over your ultrasound with Griffin. Congratulations, by the way. Twins – they’re so exciting, aren’t they?”

She’s beaming, “Thank you! God, this is amazing.”

I ask O, “Do you want Lincoln to be here? Sometimes women want their partner to experience all this with them.”

Her shoulders slump, “I wish he could be, but he’s on a mountainside right now doing photography for the magazine. He doesn’t even have cell reception at this point. I’ve got you, though.”

I nod my head and smile at her, “Well, then, I’m glad I’m here.”

I’ve gotta hand it to Walsh. He’s a pro at keeping his head level. I’m praying to god that Octavia doesn’t look over at me, because I’m probably not hiding my apprehension well. Any other patient and I’d have my game face on, easy. But this is Octavia. She’s the closest thing I have to a sister. I feel devastated for her. I recognize my emotional distress as a prime reason that doctors shouldn’t treat their friends and/or family members.

As Walsh starts explaining what we’re seeing, I see Octavia’s face fall. I scoot closer to her immediately and she grips onto my hand while she absorbs the words Walsh is telling her. I have a lot to learn from him in in terms of bedside manner and communication with laypeople. I’m working on decreasing my use of medical jargon because it can be alienating to patients, making it harder to connect with them.

Octavia now has a white-knuckled grip on my hand and I can feel her shaking. Her tremors aren’t visible externally, but her entire _being_ is tense right now. I think the hardest thing she has to absorb is that this might be her only pregnancy, her only chance to have children. Placenta accreta often requires a full hysterectomy after delivery, meaning that she won’t be able to have more kids after this pregnancy. Walsh sticks around, asking if she has more questions and answering them as thoroughly as possible.

Once Walsh leaves, Octavia takes a cleansing breath, then stands up to put her jeans back on. It seems like everything just might be okay for a bit. Then she completely _loses it_. I catch her as she collapses to the floor in a heap of despair, and my heart is breaking for her. I hold her close to me while her whole body is wracked with sobs. My heart hurts a little more when I look at how she’s cradling her belly. She already cherishes her children. She’s one of those people who wanted to have a “brood” of six kids. She’s one of those rare specimens of humans who really _should_ be able to have that many kids. She and Lincoln are the kind of people who will raise and nurture their kids into _good_ people.

After she calms down a bit, the first thing she tells me is, “Clarke, you _can’t_ tell Bellamy.” She’s shaking her head frantically, and I know she’s thinking about how stressed out he’ll be knowing that his sister (and nieces or nephews) are in a precarious, life-threatening situation.

I nod, “Okay, O. I need you to understand this: Even if I _wanted_ to tell him, I couldn’t. I’m bound by doctor-patient confidentiality. I can’t even tell him that I saw you. Okay? It’s up to you to tell him anything. The same goes for Lincoln. Or _anyone_ who isn’t you or one of my colleagues.”

She nods her head, “Thank you.”

I continue, “O, I’m speaking as a friend here, not your doctor, but I think that eventually you _should_ tell Bellamy. Yeah, he’ll freak, but I think he’d be more upset if he found out later. You know?”

She nods her head. “Yeah, I agree. I’ll tell him. Just not yet. I need to tell Lincoln first. And we’ve gotta digest this ourselves.”

“I absolutely agree. This was a lot to take in.”

After a pause, Octavia asks, “Clarke, Did you know? When you left to go get Dr. Walsh? Did you know that something was wrong?”

I look away, avoiding her gaze. “Yeah. I knew. But I needed to be sure.”

She nods. “Okay.” God, I hope she doesn’t feel betrayed.

I continue, “Like Walsh said, ultrasounds and diagnostics are my forte. I saw it immediately. I just didn’t know how to tell you. Please understand, I had absolutely _no_ intention of keeping it from you. I just needed his help to explain it to you. If it was anyone else, I could be all doctor-like and just spit out the facts. But it’s different to try and explain this to someone I love. I’m emotionally involved. You’re like my sister, O.”

She nods again. “I get it. Thank you for telling me, and not making me wait for another appointment or something to find out. And thanks for being here when Dr. Walsh dropped that bomb. _Those_ _bombs_. Fuck, Clarke… What the hell am I going to do?”

I hold her shoulders and look her square in the eye, “You’re going to do what you do best: you’re going to fucking rock this. I have _never_ known you to back down from a challenge. If anyone is capable of handling this, it’s you. Okay?”

She looks at the ceiling and tears are falling from her eyes, which makes me start to cry too. Her voice sounds so small, “I’ve got to, right? I don’t have a choice, do I?”

I shake my head, “No, not really. Even if you were considering terminating the pregnancy, the damage to your uterus at this point would still be extensive…” I shake my head, realizing that was kind of insensitive. “Fuck, I don’t mean to sound hopeless.”

She shakes her head, “No, Clarke. You know I don’t appreciate when people sugar-coat things. You’re telling it to me straight. I know I can trust you, Griffin.”

I nod, wiping my own tears as well as her own. “You can... And O? You’ve got this, okay?”

I pull her into a hug and she’s nodding her head. “Yeah, I’ve got this. We’ve got this.”

She doesn’t need to be alone right now. “I’ve got the rest of my day free and Alex is with Nate this week. Sleepover?”

She laughs, “That sounds perfect.” She pauses, “Wait, I’ve actually got somewhere I have to be this evening. Like, from six to eight. But before and after that, I’d appreciate having you with me, if that’s okay.”

“I’ll use those hours to explain to Bellamy that you and I are in need of some bonding time.”

She scrunches her nose, “Oh, god. Please don’t assault me with details of that encounter. He’s a damn horndog when it comes to you…”

I laugh out loud… “Yeah, that’s not one-sided.”

She covers her ears dramatically, “Don’t want to hear it, Clarke!”

“I’ll grab my stuff, then we’ll head out.”

“We need ice cream. A lot of fucking ice cream.”

I nod, “Agreed. We should probably discuss a healthy pregnancy diet soon... But tonight, I think ice cream is a necessity. Doctor’s orders.”

She winks, “I knew I picked you for a reason.”

I grab a bunch of the printouts of her ultrasound images for Octavia and hand them to her. “You might want to hold onto these – your babies’ first photos.”

She smiles thoughtfully, “Yes. Definitely. Thanks, Griffin.”

“Come on, let’s get the fuck out of here."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This isn't a smutty chapter, but it's important in terms of plot movement and what not. 
> 
> COMMENTS & feedback are much-appreciated! (and KUDOS make me happy)


	28. dinner was like, half an hour of foreplay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Octavia & Clarke have some more bonding time.
> 
> Then, Clarke + Bellamy = Sexy times

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU GUYS SO MUCH FOR YOUR GREAT FEEDBACK!!!  
> It makes my day every time, really. 
> 
> *Trigger Warnings*  
> -Some talk of woman-stuff (medically, like menstruation)  
> -Dom/Sub (General ordering around and what not)  
> Nothing really *kinky* in this chapter, I don't think.

Octavia wants to go shopping for the rest of the afternoon, so we head to the mall. She wants to find some clothes that accent her newly gravid figure. We spend the afternoon tossing ideas back and forth on how to tell Lincoln.

I relay some of the stories I’ve heard from patients in this regard. “I had one patient who took her positive pregnancy test and served it to her partner on a covered dinner plate one night.”

“That’s gross.”

I laugh out loud, “Yeah, it kind of is… I’m in healthcare. My concept of ‘appropriate’ is a little skewed.”

She shrugs when she comes out of the dressing room wearing a stunningly simple knee-length dress that hugs all of her curves perfectly, including her newest one. The side-ruching accents her baby bump, and leaves room for belly growth. I have a feeling she’s going to be one of those sickeningly gorgeous pregnant women, who grows an adorable baby bump while maintaining her perfect figure…

“However I tell him, I just want it to be organic, you know?”                                            

“Yeah. I do… Okay, here’s an idea: Just wear that dress. It’s seriously perfect.” I come up behind her, pivoting her to face the mirror. “See, from the front, you can’t really see that you’re pregnant, right?” She nods, then I turn her so that she can see her profile. “You just have to turn to the side a bit, and it’s unmistakable.”

Her face is lit up like a kid on Christmas morning. “Yeah.”

“Maybe make him dinner, like a stay-in date night or something that would call for you to wear this dress… It’ll knock his socks off, because you look gorgeous. Then it’ll hit him – the baby bump – and he’ll lose his shit. It’ll be so damn cute.”

“I like that idea… Love it, actually.” She gives me a grin. “Okay, now I want some other preggo clothes. The bump isn’t really easy to hide anymore, anyway. Might as well embrace it, right? I don’t want to be a frumpy pregnant lady. I want some fun clothes. And cute stuff. And some comfy lounge-around clothes, too.”

I nod with a smile. “I support that.”

“I can’t believe I’m pregnant, Clarke.” She has a delighted smile on her face. “We tried for a while, and it started to get really stressful. It was taking a toll on Lincoln and me, which I know is pretty common for couples dealing with infertility. I know some people try for years before ‘giving up,’ so I felt kind of like a quitter, but it was tearing us apart. If we kept judging the worth of our relationship on whether we could make a baby, it was going to fuck us up. We did a lot of soul-searching and decided if it was supposed to happen, it would, you know? But honestly, I had given up hope.”

I smile, “Sometimes that’s just how it happens – maybe removing the stress factor helped.”

I can see tears welling up behind her eyes again, “Every time I got a period, which was of course at random, my heart would just break… So I stopped trying to track them because I would see the marks on my calendar, and my soul would just _hurt_ , I was reminded of my failures… It’s probably why I was so clueless.”

“Clueless?”

“Yeah, like, not paying attention to pregnancy signs.”

“Well, I didn’t have like, _any_ symptoms with Alex.”

“Yeah, I remember. Remember people were all jealous you didn’t have morning sickness?”

I laugh, “Yeah. That _so_ came in handy in school. So you haven’t had to deal with nausea or anything?”

“Nah. Just the weird cravings. Like, I can’t get enough of cranberry iced tea. Like I want it in my mouth _all_ the time.”

I smirk, “Mine was peach iced tea. And weirdly, apple juice and iced tea. It was totally weird.”

She looks panicked all of a sudden, “Oh, shit, Clarke – are my babies going to come out caffeine addicts?”

I shake my head, “No. I mean, a lot of pregnant women still drink their caffeinated beverages through pregnancy. Lord knows, I was terrible about that myself. But, because your pregnancy is so high-risk already, I think it would probably be smart to take every possible precaution. So, maybe let’s switch to caffeine-free tea.”

She takes a deep breath, “Okay. And cranberries? Are those okay?”

I nod, “Yes! Those are actually really good for urinary health! So that’s beneficial. In fact, I’ll often recommend cranberry juice and other cranberry stuff to my patients who are prone to UTI’s, so that we can avoid excessive antibiotics during pregnancy.”

She smiles, “So maybe my body knows what it needs.”

“It’s amazing what the human body can do for itself. I have to ask, have you been drinking or anything?”

“You know how Linc and I are. Occasional glass of wine at dinner in the past. But since we were trying to get pregnant, we didn’t even have alcohol in the house.”

“That’s good. And parties and what not?”

“Lincoln stopped drinking after we lost Nyko. Even though he wasn’t the drunk driver, it hit Lincoln really hard. I figured ‘what’s good for the goose is good for the gander,’ you know? So I followed suit.”

“That’s really good news. That’s one of the scary parts when women have no suspicion of being pregnant – they aren’t paying attention to what they’re putting in their bodies. It increases the risk of fetal alcohol syndrome and other birth defects.”

She smiles, “Well, I guess that’s one more ‘plus’ of Lincoln’s psycho health-nut habits rubbing off on me.”

I nod. “Definitely. And I know you’ve been really active.”

“Yeah. For sure – for Lincoln’s photography, we go on a lot of expeditions to really remote areas. Hiking is a constant activity. Do you think that hurt the babies? Could that have caused all the… abnormalities?”

I shake my head, “No. Don’t put that on yourself. This shit just happens sometimes.”

She looks regretful, “What the hell makes the placenta grow _into_ a uterus, Clarke? Like _why_ would the body _do_ that to itself?”

I shrug, “Well, placenta accreta – where the placenta embeds itself into the uterus – is a complicated mechanism. When I come across placenta accreta, it is often accompanied by placenta previa, which you also have – it’s when the placenta attaches too low in the uterus. I forget, did you have any other issues with your reproductive system, besides the irregular periods?”

She nods, “Yeah.  Endometriosis. And I had to have some uterine fibroids removed a while back.”

I nod, “That’s another risk factor. For both placenta previa and accreta.”

She interjects, “If I'm asking too many questions, tell me, but I’m just trying to wrap my head around this.”

“Octavia, you cannot ask too many questions about this. And, I’m happy to talk to you about any of it, okay? Consider it one of the perks of having an OB for a friend.” I bump her shoulder playfully, which she returns with a laugh.  

“Okay. Cool. So explain to me how my endometriosis history and the fibroids can cause these problems.”

“Again, it’s a complicated mechanism. Like most shit in medicine, we don’t know the exact process. With endometriosis, the tissue that normally lines the _inside_ of your uterus grows on the _outside_ of your uterus. This can cause a host of issues. The resulting scar tissue is what is thought to cause the complications you’re experiencing. The theory is that the scar tissue in the uterus can affect _where_ the placenta attaches. It also influences how deeply the placenta attaches. We’ll be keeping a close watch on how deep it attaches throughout your pregnancy.” She nods. “Am I losing you?”

Octavia shakes her head, “No. I’m just thinking about it all. You know my mom died of uterine cancer, right?”

I shake my head, “I didn’t. I thought it was lung cancer – Bell told me she was a smoker, so I just assumed. For as close as he and I were, I’m now surprised we didn’t talk about which cancer Aurora had.” 

She shrugs, “I wonder if she could have been spared if they’d done the hysterectomy earlier.”

I shrug back, “I don’t know, O.”

She blinks her eyes quickly, trying to blink away tears, but they fall down her cheeks anyway. She wipes them away quickly and lets out a tear-stained laugh, “I don’t really want to talk about cancer right now.”

I laugh softly, “Yeah, let’s not...” I figure this is a nice time to veer the conversation away from all the medical talk. “How about that dress – it’s gorgeous. What shoes are you going to wear?”

She laughs, “I’ve got no shortage of shoes to accompany this dress. What about my black strappy stilettos?”

I smirk, “Perfect. By the way, I hate you for being able to wear strappy stilettos. My feet would _not_ have put up with that when I was pregnant.”

She laughs as she stands up and walks over to a clothing rack, “Clarke, I don’t think my preggo wardrobe will be complete without this obnoxious velour tracksuit.”

I bark out a laugh, “I second that. You _must_ get that.”

She picks out some more cute things that leave some room for _expansion_ in the belly area.

By the time we’re done, it’s time for us to part ways for a few hours.

She sighs, “Okay, so I’m wearing my non-preggo clothes to this meeting. I’m meeting with a gallery owner who is interested in showcasing Lincoln’s latest photography series. I don’t want to look pregnant – on the off chance they speak to Lincoln, I don’t want them to spill the beans by accident. Does this look okay?”

I nod, “The flowy top is doing a marvelous job concealing the baby bump.”

Her facial expression would best be described as “accomplished.” She straightens up and goes into her manager-mode. “I’ll see you in a few hours, then? I’m thinking closer to 9pm. We are going to dinner after the gallery tour.”

I smile and nod, “I’ll meet you at my place. With ice cream and my extra comfy robes.”

“Perfect.”

We part ways. I spend the trip home trying to think about how Bellamy and I are going to make the most of the next few hours.

 

* * *

 

[Bellamy POV]

I walk into Clarke’s apartment with a bag of groceries. I picked up ingredients for tonight’s dinner. She texted me to tell me she’d be home soon, and to let myself in. We got to the “give each other keys” stage about a month after we got together, so I come over and make dinner a few times a week on the nights she’s not at the hospital. She appreciates it, and it gives us a nice opportunity to have some low-key time together. We’re fucking addicted to each other. We see each other just about every day – either she comes to my place or vice versa, depending on whether we have Alex that week, or if she’s on-call. Her place is slightly closer to the hospital, so we stick around here those nights.

I’m putting the final touches on the Bolognese when Clarke comes in.

“Oh my god, Bell. That smells so good.” I’m at the stove, stirring the sauce. She walks up behind me and wraps her arms around my front, pressing her forehead between my shoulder blades. She lets out a cleansing sigh.

“Rough day?”

She nods her head against my back, “Hmph, yeah. You could say that.”

“Want to talk about it?”

I feel her shake her head, “Not really. But dinner smells fucking delicious.”

I smirk, “It’s Bolognese – your favorite recipe.”

“Mmmmm. Perfect.”

“It’s almost done.”

After a quick squeeze around my waist, she steps away and starts setting the table. “You got my text about O coming over?”

“Yeah, what time is she supposed to be here?”

“She said around nine.”

“Alright, I’ll be out of here by then and you guys can have your ‘girl’s night’ or whatever.” I’m really trying not to be jealous of my sister. I get to have Clarke almost every night, and I know O could use some female companionship… I couldn’t ask for a better friend for Octavia, even if it means I have to give her up now and then…

She comes back behind me and kisses my shoulder, “Thanks, Bell. You’re a good brother… And an outstanding boyfriend.”

“Yeah, remember that next time you’re mad at me.” She laughs out loud and rolls her eyes. We head over to the table and I start dishing out the food. Clarke tends to make these orgasmic noises when she’s eating, and tonight is no exception. In fact, I swear she’s making even more noises than usual. Then she starts rubbing my leg with her foot. Yeah, I know what’s on her mind… By the time we’re done eating, my dick is rock hard. I catch her eyes, and she’s smirking. Her pupils are blown and her breaths are coming quick and shallow. I use my foot to push her chair away from the table, and she stands right up and walks toward me. I push away from the table myself and start standing up, but she pushes me back down into the chair and straddles me.

I attack her neck immediately and she moans like she hasn’t gotten laid in weeks (even though we definitely fucked yesterday). I smirk against her skin, “Is there something you need, Princess?”

She nods, “You.”

I groan, “Good.” I look pointedly at the kitchen table, “Dishes? We shouldn’t leave the table a mess.” She knows I’m fucking with her. It’s taking everything I have _not_ to fling all of the dishes off the table with my arm so I can fuck her senseless right here.

She pulls her head away to look me in the eye and raises an eyebrow. “Seriously?” I shake my head with a smirk. She laughs, “Fuck the dishes.”

I lay a few nibbles on her neck, “Agreed. I think I’ll fuck you instead.”

She moans, “Thank god…”

I stand up suddenly and she shrieks with a laugh, “Bellamy!” As I support her with my hands under her ass, she wraps her legs around my waist and encircles my neck with her arms, pulling me into a demanding kiss. I start to carry us up the stairs to her room. Halfway up the stairs, she starts ripping her clothes off. Her shirt goes flying over the railing lands down in the living room somewhere. Her bra follows quickly afterwards. She knows I can’t fucking resist her tits… I growl as I bite harshly into the skin just above her nipple and she throws her head back, rewarding me with an animalistic groan. The flesh of her neck is as irresistible as her tits for me, so as I make it to the top step, I bite hard into the skin at the junction between her neck and shoulder. She yelps as I grind my teeth and suck brutally on the skin between them. By the time we make it into her room, I drop her unceremoniously onto the mattress and she unfastens her pants, shimmying out of them and her underwear simultaneously. I manage to divest myself of my own clothes in record time. As she makes her way to the head of her bed, I follow quickly, settling myself between her open legs. I make no moves to enter her, much to her frustration.

“Bell…” She whines, “Come on… _Fuck me_.”

I prop myself on my forearms, stroking her cheek with the back of my index finger. “Princess, I _know_ you didn’t just try to give _me_ an order.”

She squeezes her lips together, shaking her head. “Just some… encouragement?”

I chuckle, “Sure. We’ll call it that.” I snake my other hand between us and part her folds with my fingers. “Holy fuck, Clarke… You’re so goddamn wet. _”_

She moans unabashedly, “Dinner was like half an hour of foreplay, Bell.”

I clear my throat and still my fingers, “Excuse me, Princess?”

She straightens up, “ _Sir_.”

I nod, “ _That’s better_.” I stroke between her folds a little more, anticipating and evading her attempts to shift her hips so I’ll pay attention to her throbbing clit. I shake my head and give her a warning glare. “Is my slutty little Princess a little desperate tonight?”

She moans, _“God_ , yes…”

I slip two fingers into her cunt, “Fuck, Clarke… I have to taste you.” She squirms underneath me.

_“Please…”_

I bite at the skin on her abdomen, “Please _what_?”

 _“_ Please _, Sir.”_

I thrust my fingers that are still in her pussy in reward for her compliance and she moans in response. As I make my way farther down, I use the fingers on my other hand to part her folds. _“_ You’re gonna be a good little slut, aren’t you?” Her cunt clenches _hard_ around my fingers and my cock twitches almost painfully.

“Yes, Sir. I’m trying”

I softly speak against her pussy, “I want to taste your pretty little cunt, Princess…”

She nods furiously, _“Please,_ will you taste me, Sir?”

I chuckle, and the soft puff of air against her clit has her pussy clenching around my hand again, “I don’t think I could resist, Princess.” I pull my fingers out of her pussy and bring them to her lips, "Princess, I want you to taste yourself while I taste you.” I nibble lightly at her outer labia and she growls with desire. As I rest my tongue at her entrance, I make no attempt to push it in any farther. She darts her tongue out to lick my finger and moans appreciatively. When she sucks my fingers into her mouth, I plunge my tongue into her dripping wet cunt, moaning approvingly. As she plays with my fingers, sucking on them and writhing her tongue between them to thoroughly clean herself off of them, I writhe my own tongue around deep inside of her, occasionally bumping her clit with my nose. She releases my fingers with a “pop” and licks her tongue along her lips, as if she’s trying to catch anything she may have missed.

“Fuck, Princess… It’s so goddamn hot when you get into it like that. Do you like how you taste?”

She blushes a violent shade of red as she nods. It’s amazing that this woman can do and say some of the most depraved things, but will still blush about something as simple as enjoying the taste of her own juices.

“Come on, Princess… You know I want to hear you say it.”

She groans, looking absolutely mortified, “I like the way I taste, when you make me taste myself, Sir.”

I chuckle, “You just _like_ it?”

She shakes her head, “I _love_ it.”

I smirk, _“That’s_ my good girl.” I look down at her cunt, and it clenches in response to my praises, causing some of her juices to drip out of it. I lick them up greedily. “I want to taste you while you come apart on my tongue.”

She nods frantically, hands fisting the sheets below her, _“Oh my fucking god… Please…._ ”

I wrap my arms around her thighs, forearms holding her hips down as I part her folds again, exposing her pussy completely. I nibble lightly, _just barely_ , at the little hood of skin that is covering her throbbing clit, and her hips thrust violently toward my face. I had, of course, anticipated this, so I had moved my head out of the way in time. “Ask me. _Beg_ me. Beg me to fuck your slutty little cunt with my mouth.”

She whimpers, _“Oh fuck… PLEASE, sir…”_

I shake my head, “You can do better than that.”

With a sob, she’s falling apart at the seams, _“_ PLEASE, PLEASE, Sir… I’m begging you… _Please_ make me come…. Please fuck my s-slutty little c-cunt with your m-mouth!”

I reward her handsomely, plunging my fingers into her, crooking them in a “come hither” motion. She cries out, _“Oh god!”_

I chuckle, “Princess, ‘Sir’ is sufficient…”

She laughs desperately, but it turns into a full-bodied growl when I close my lips over her clit. I just touch her throbbing little nub with the tip of my tongue, but her legs jerk, trying to close around my head. She’s got some strong leg muscles, but they’ve got nothing on my arms holding her open. After a few more tortuous touches with tongue, I suck her clit into my mouth. She cries out as her body tenses up.

I release her clit and speak against her cunt, “Uh uh uh, Princess. You know better. You can’t come yet.”

She’s almost sobbing, “Oh fuck, _please..._ Don’t do this tonight…”

I growl and stop my movements inside her cunt, “Last I checked, Princess _, I_ give the orders in here.”

She nods, taking a deep breath. _“_ Yes, Sir.”Her legs are still twitching but she’s making a concerted effort to behave.

My voice is authoritative, “You’ll come when I tell you to. Understood?” She nods with furrowed brows, biting her bottom lip so hard I’m mildly concerned she’ll put a hole in it. “Sweetheart, don’t bite your lip like that. I don’t want you to hurt yourself.” She releases her lip, parting them instead. Clarke with parted lips, a heaving chest, and a concentrated frown is an image that makes my cock painfully hard. I growl against her inner thigh as my hips involuntarily thrust themselves into the mattress. She must have felt that because her lips quirk up with a satisfied smirk.

“You’re fucking _delicious_ Clarke. Every goddamn bit of you.” She moans, but seems to know better than to try and get snarky about my clearly waning self-control.

I return to fucking her with my fingers and she groans again. She’s breathless as she utters a barely-audible _“Thank you.”_ I close my lips around her clit again, and suck it into my mouth. After a few tugs, she’s again sobbing in frustration. I switch my ministrations around a bit, this time gently rubbing circles around her clit while I lick into her cunt with my tongue. She sighs in slight relief. After a minute or so, I pull my face away from her cunt but continue edging her with my fingers on her clit.

“You’re being so good, Princess… I know you want to come right now, but you’re being such a good girl, holding it in for me.” She moans, biting her lip again. I admonish her, _“_ Princess. I just told you, no lip biting when you’re like this.” She releases her lip and lets out a little cry instead. _“Good girl.”_ Her whole body shudders when she hears that. I move my fingers away from her clit and she sighs gratefully at the respite, but it lasts only a moment before I gently kiss her clit, then flick it a few times with my tongue.

Clarke thrusts her chest up and fists her hands into the sheets even harder with a frustrated cry.   “Oh f-fuck! This is _killing_ me!”

I shake my head. I rub gentle, steady circles into her clit again as I reprimand her. “I think you’re being a little dramatic, Princess.” She releases a weak laugh-cry, wordlessly acknowledging the scolding.

“Okay, Princess. I’ll give you something else to focus on for a bit. Take your fingers and put them into your mouth… Get them nice and wet for me.” She complies beautifully. Her eyes are closed as she withdraws her fingers from her mouth, a string of viscous saliva still dripping from her finger. “Good. Now play with your tits. Get your nipples all wet and pinch them for me.” While she does that, I lick into her cunt again a few times. “Does that feel good, Princess?” She nods her head furiously. “Yeah, it does… You’re so fucking hot like this, baby.”

Clarke groans, “God, this feels so _good_. So cruel but so good.”

She’s forming sentences too easily, so I know it’s time to take it up a notch. “Keep playing with your tits, baby. When I tap you three times, you can come…”

She whimpers, _“Oh, god…_ Thank y-you.”

I chuckle, “Don’t you dare come before that. Not a second before.”

She nods, “Yes, Sir. I’ll be good.”

I smirk as I lower my face back down to her pussy, my fingers still tenderly (teasingly) stroking her clit. I dip my tongue in, massaging her velvety inner walls while she whimpers in tortured delight. I switch it up again, this time plunging my fingers into her cunt and mercilessly stimulating her g-spot. I enclose her clit with my lips, applying just enough suction to pull it into my mouth. I tug at it a few times, causing her to shriek as she pulls violently at her nipples that are pinched brutally between her fingers. Then I gently caress her clit while tugging at it, and I can tell it’s taking everything she has not to fall apart right now.

Finally, I give her three firm taps on her hip. She wails as she comes undone on my tongue and around my fingers. I keep eating her out, stimulating her through her orgasm, and I’m nearly falling apart just watching her. The image of an orgasmic Clarke is about the most beautiful thing I’ve ever witnessed. I almost feel drawn into it myself as I gaze at her pleasure. She pushes my face away after a bit, crying that it’s too much.

I crawl my way back up her body, removing my fingers from her pussy and bringing it back to her lips. I drag them up her neck, and over her cheek, following the line of juices with my tongue. I coat her lips with it, and as she darts her tongue out to her lip to taste her top lip, I suck her bottom lip between my own before meeting her in a bruising, demanding kiss.

My mouth travels to her ear, whispering sinful things into it, “I’m gonna fuck you so hard... So good… Does your pretty little cunt want me to fuck it?” She nods, her face tense with concentration, but her shaking voice betrays any attempt to appear composed when she can’t hold back her moans. I sit back on my heels as I gaze down at Clarke, wrecked and desperate in front of me. I cup her tits, squeezing them together and flicking my thumbs over her nipples. She thrusts her chest in the air in response.

Her chest is heaving, her gorgeous tits rising and falling with each breath. She sees me staring, gazing at me through hooded eyes while licking her lips in that way she knows drives me fucking crazy. “Baby, you wanna fuck my tits, don’t you?”

My ears start ringing and my mouth goes dry. As I nod slowly, I’m pretty sure my jaw is slack, but I can’t be certain, since my brain is feeling _fuzzy_. I did _not_ expect those words to fall off of her lips. She smirks as she grips my thighs, pulling them toward her chest. I straddle her waist, then her ribs, without putting any real weight on her torso. I feel her snake her hand around me, then I can hear the squishing sound of her playing with her pussy. She brings her fingers back up to her chest, completely coated in her juices. She starts smearing the fluids in the valley between her breasts. She dips her hand into her pussy again, this time coming back with cupped fingers full of her arousal. She drips it over and between her tits.

She’s still rocking her ‘fuck-me eyes’ big time. “Baby, you can spit on my tits, too…. Make me all slippery...” I’ll repeat my earlier sentiments about my ears ringing and mouth going dry. Not long after that, my mouth is watering in anticipation. I’ve been wanting to tit-fuck Clarke probably since the day I met her. I’m not sure how long I can last, given that I’ve been waiting fifteen years for this. I don’t break eye contact as I follow her suggestion, allowing my saliva (that, honestly, has already been begging to escape me) to trickle onto her voluptuous tits. She pushes them together invitingly, worrying her lower lip just briefly before letting it go again. _“_ Come on... tit-fuck me, Bell”

Who am I to deny her? I push my cock into her cleavage, reveling in the perfect softness. She’s making noises that threaten to send me over the edge quickly. I see the head of my cock peek out through the top of her tits and chuckle at how absurdly hot this is. I pull back and thrust in again, and Clarke is raking her fingernails along her tits. Not wanting her to feel left out, I encourage her to keep pleasuring herself. _“_ Yeah, Princess… Just like that. Play with your gorgeous tits for me… You’re fucking stunning, you know that?” I keep thrusting slowly, wanting to extend the pleasure I’m feeling. Her soft tits feel fucking magnificent around my cock, outdoing my fantasies by leaps and bounds (and those fantasies were extensive). I reach behind me with one hand to play with her pussy. When my fingers graze her clit, her arms twitch, causing her to push her tits even closer together around my cock. The sensation was unexpected, and I’m unable to suppress the satisfied groan that escapes me when I feel the increased pressure around me.

Clarke’s pleasured moans harmonize with mine with mind-numbing erotic intensity. “Oh god… Bell, your hands are fucking amazing…” I keep caressing her as I thrust my cock between her tits. I don’t think I’ll ever forget the image below me: Clarke, pushing her tits together (while simultaneously pleasuring her nipples), eyes closed, lips parted, head thrown back. I’m aching to feast on her exposed neck, but the pleasure rolling through me right now is too great to risk losing the position. She seems to be in her own world of bliss.

I don’t think it’s possible for her to look any hotter like this. As if she can hear my thoughts, she opens her eyes, her gaze drilling into mine. She lifts her head up off the bed, curling her neck. When I thrust forward between her tits again, she sticks her tongue out to make contact with the tip of my cock. I fucking _yelp_ in response. The visual image combined with the indescribable pleasure is enough to wipe my mind clear of anything but this moment. She smirks, and I can’t even bring myself to give a shit that my ‘dominance’ is being trumped by someone who is literally trapped beneath me on her back. She knows she’s got the power right now, and she’s fucking skilled at maximizing it.

I have no idea where she gets the inspiration to do these things, but my cock is in fucking heaven. I rub her clit harder and faster, dipping my fingers in periodically to gather her natural lubrication and smear it around on her clit while I frig it. Then I dip two fingers inside of her while using the heel of my hand to stimulate her clit. She’s moaning shamelessly now, thrusting her hips up against my hand and pushing her tits harder together. I didn’t think it would be possible to pleasure Clarke while I tit-fucked her. In my fantasies, she was on her knees next to the bed or a chair where I was sitting, and she’d squeeze her tits together while I fucked into them. I didn’t think about doing it this way – with her on her back. It’s enabled us to fully pleasure each other, and I couldn’t be happier with her ingenuity.

She starts moaning, “Oh, god… I’m gonna come, baby…” Every few thrusts, she darts her tongue out to lick the head of my cock again.

I nod my head, “Come for me, Clarke. Come for me while I come on you...” She cries out in ecstasy as I feel her fall apart, her inner walls clenching rhythmically around my fingers. At the same time, she’s pushing her tits together impossibly hard, which sends me over the edge with her. I see ropes of my come darting out from her cleavage, shooting up and landing in the hollow of her neck and under her chin. She drops her hands from her tits, letting them fall apart and I’m unbelievably turned on the redness of the skin that was just assaulted by my cock. She’s breathing heavily, and her heaving chest is a constant reminder of how amazing her tits are.

She has an adorable grin on her face as she laughs, “Who fucking knew it would feel that great for you to fuck my tits, huh?”

I chuckle as I flop down beside her, “Well, I knew it would feel fucking fantastic for _me,_ but I’m glad you could get something out of it.”

She smirks, “You and me, both… We’ve got like, two more hours before O gets here. Think you’re up for another round?” She raises an eyebrows, challenging me. She swipes her fingers along her chest, gathering up my come, and proceeds to lick it off her fingers, eyes closed and moaning... Fuck, that’s hot.

She reaches down and takes my cock in her hands, stroking it a few times before she rises up and straddles my knees. She bends down takes my cock in her mouth without warning, and it takes almost no time at all to get me to full attention. She sits up straight, licking her lips clean while gazing at my rock hard cock. She gently rakes her fingernails along the sides of my shaft and my hips thrust up involuntarily. She smirks, seemingly satisfied with her work.

“Oh, Princess…” Like a coiled snake, I flip us over so she’s pinned underneath me. I attack her neck, sucking bruises into her flesh while growling loudly in both arousal and annoyance that she’s got such intoxicating control over me. I straighten up so I’m kneeling between her legs again. She’s lying on her back and I pull her legs up straight so they’re pointing at the ceiling. I allow them to part slightly so that she can rest her calves against my collarbones. I lift up her hips to align my cock to her entrance. When I plunge into her, she cries out.

This angle is perfect for mercilessly pounding her g-spot, and the effects are immediate. She fists her hands into the sheets next to her head, thrashing side to side. _“Ohmygodohmygodohmyfuckinggod!”_

I feel a smug grin stretch across my face, “Princess, you’ve been so good tonight. So, so good…” She nods and groans, “You have my permission to come as soon as you want, as many times as you want.” My hands are occupied, holding her hips up so I can pound into her. I know I’m squeezing her flesh so tight, she’s bruising under my fingers. “Play with yourself, Princess. Use one hand to play with your clit… yeah, like that.” Her mouth is open in a perfect “O” shape as her eyes roll back in her head. “Bring your other hand to your tits, I wanna see you play with your tits, Princess.” She complies, biting her lip again (I can’t bring myself to tell her to stop biting her lips this time), and it’s making me impossibly hard watching her like this.

She’s sobbing, “Oh god, I’m gonna- I’m gonna-“

“Come for me, Princess. Let go and come for me.” She moans, her words completely unintelligible, as I feel her pussy pulsating on my cock. I’m determined to pull her over the edge at least one more time before I come. I keep fucking her through this orgasm, plotting the next move in my head. As she starts coming down, I pull out of her and set her hips down.

“Bell, you’re still hard…”

I smirk, “You didn’t think I was finished with you already, did you?” She laughs as I flip her over onto her stomach. I slip a pillow under her hips so her ass is pushed a little in the air, like a small hump. Still kneeling, I brace my knees around her hips and sit back on my heels, caging her thighs between my legs. I start massaging her gluteal muscles, slowly opening her cheeks up. It is tempting as hell to fuck her ass, but we haven’t negotiated that before, so I’m not going there. I make a mental note to bring that up. I keep massaging, wordlessly encouraging her to arch her back and angle her ass higher up so I have better access to her cunt. She responds beautifully and I dip my fingers down to gather up the copious juices that are flowing out of her cunt, laying a path of lubrication for when I finally enter her.

I tease her cunt a few more times, enjoying her tortured and frustrated moans. I knead my fingers into the flesh of her ass again, giving her a deep gluteal massage in the process. I spread her cheeks apart and begin to push my cock between them. I use the heel of one of my hands to angle my cock downwards and I finally thrust into her cunt. She’s fucking _gushing_ at this point, maintaining ample lubrication as I thrust in and out of her. She’s writhing underneath me as I sustain a punishing rhythm. She's purposely clenching her walls _tight_ around me, and I’m nearly torturing myself trying to hold off my own orgasm. She snakes her hand between herself and the pillow. “Naughty Princess… Are you touching yourself?”

She nods, groaning but apparently unable to verbalize anything. “Good girl… your cunt feels so fucking incredible, Princess… So fucking good.” She flips her head to face the other direction, biting sheets between her teeth on the way. I change the rhythm a bit, pulling out slowly then snapping back into her, and I can tell she’s about to fall apart again. I speed up the thrusts a little more and she comes, crying out with her face pressed into the mattress. I can’t hold back anymore and after just a few more punishing thrusts, I feel myself explode inside of her. She’s panting like a dog underneath me, and my own breaths are coming just as fast. I finally pull out of her so I can flop down onto my back next to her. She turns her head to the side and I can see the satisfied smirk in her eyes. I pull her onto my chest and brush the hair out of her face, gently tucking the errant strands behind her ears.

She grins at me. “You just reversed my whole crappy day.”

I grin back, “Glad I could be of service.” I search her eyes, “What happened?”

She shrugs, “Just work. It was just a… day.”

I nod. “I hear you.” I look at the clock. We still have some time before Octavia gets here, but I should be getting home since I’m not going to be sleeping here. Despite that, we stay curled up in each other for about another hour before finally disentangling. “I’d better go, Princess… O will be here soon.”

She whimpers, “Your sister is lucky I love her to fucking death. Because I’m giving up a night wrapped up in you…”

I squeeze her again and give her a kiss on her head before getting out of bed and getting dressed. Clarke follows suit, but dresses in pajamas instead. I start heading downstairs, pausing when I’m at the top because I hear Octavia in the living room huffing a laugh, “Goddammit Clarke, you can’t keep your clothes on around my brother at _all_ can you?” I hear her stomping around the living room. When I get to the stairs, I see she has already disrobed, pulling on some pajama pants of her own. At least she has her shirt on already.

I clear my throat, “Jesus, O – you’re one to talk. Where are your clo-“ My words die in my throat when I catch sight of her. I haven’t seen her in two weeks, but I’m certain she didn’t look so… _pregnant_ then.  

She sees me focusing on her very obvious baby bump and holds her hands up in a placating manner, “Bellamy.”

“Octavia, what-”

“Bellamy,” she says warningly.

“O, are you-?” My feet are flying down the stairs as I make my way over to my sister, stop directly in front of her.

She shrugs, “I didn’t realize you were still here.”

“You weren’t supposed to be here until 9. But Octavia-” I look back down at her protruding belly and I know my confusion and surprise must be evident on my face.

Octavia presses her lips together, looking almost _timid_ (which is a strange look on Octavia). “Yeah, Bell. I’m pregnant.”

I know she and Lincoln were trying for a long time, but weren’t having any luck. I’m inexplicably overcome with excitement because I know how happy they must be, and I feel this _joy_ building up inside of me. I swallow the knot in my throat and sit down on the coffee table, hovering my hands above her stomach. “Can I feel?”

She chokes a sob, “Yeah, Bell, you can feel.” I put my hands on her, stunned by the idea that my baby sister is _pregnant_.

I look up at her face and she laughs, while tears are streaming down her face. “O, what’s wrong?”

She shakes her head, “I don’t know, I just wasn’t sure if you’d be, like, upset or something.”

I stand back up and pull her into a hug, “Are you fucking kidding? You guys wanted this for a long time. Why would I be upset?”

She shrugs, leaning into the hug, “I don’t know, Bell. You’re my big brother – like, you used to get uncomfortable when someone alluded to the idea of Lincoln and I having _sex._ ” I feel myself flinch a bit, just out of habit. She barks out another laugh, “Yeah like that.”

I chuckle, “You’re not a kid anymore, O. I know that. But yeah, I’ll probably just continue to ignore that aspect of this kid’s development if that’s alright with you.”

I keep holding O for a little while before finally letting her go. “This is great, Octavia. Lincoln never said anything to me, and I was on the phone with him, like two days ago.”

“Oh god, Lincoln doesn’t know yet. He’s going to be so ticked that everyone else is finding out before him.”

I frown, “O, how does he _not_ know? You’re like, huge.”

She smacks at me, “Thanks a lot, big brother.”

I deflect her smacks, “You know what I mean. You’re tiny. But that-” I gesture at her stomach “-that’s kind of obvious.”

She rolls her eyes, “Yeah… they just kind of, blew up.”

I frown, “They?”

She nods with an excited grin, “Twins.”

I nod back, “A built-in sibling, nice.”

I sit back down on the coffee table again, unable to keep my hands off her stomach. “O, this is crazy. My niece or nephew is in there. Sorry, nieces or nephews? Both?”

She laughs, shaking her head, “We’ll see. We don’t know yet.” She puts her hand on my shoulder and pats it gently. “They’re going to have the best uncle ever.”

I smirk, “Damn straight they will.”

 

* * *

 

[Clarke POV]

I’m standing at the top of the stairs and I see Bellamy sitting on my coffee table, hands on Octavia’s belly. They make a poignant picture. I can’t see Bellamy’s face, but I’m guessing by Octavia’s warm body language that he’s taking the news well. He eventually drops his hands from her belly and stands back up, turning around. He’s got an excited grin on his face, which is a relief.

Octavia sees me at the top of the stairs, “Hey Clarke. Sorry, I’m back a little earlier than I thought.”

I give her a big grin, “No worries, O. Glad you’re here.” I make my way down the stairs and Octavia walks my direction, meeting me at the bottom of the stairs. We pull each other into a tight hug. I whisper, “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you’d be back so soon. Is everything okay?”

Octavia squeezes me back, “Yeah, everything is okay. Really. Now he knows.”

Bellamy clears his throat, “Now I know what?”

Octavia replies to Bellamy as she pulls away from me, “That I’m pregnant, big brother. We’re trying to keep this on the down low until Lincoln comes home. So, it goes without saying that I need you to keep this between us, okay?”

Bellamy nods, “Of course.” He frowns, “Wait, Clarke, you knew?”

I look to Octavia, who speaks up, “Um, yeah. Clarke knew.” Octavia can sense the irritation reeling off of him as well as I can because she steps in front of me, “Bell, she didn’t tell you because I asked her not to.”

I put my hand on his arm, “Bell, really. I had to respect O’s wishes, Okay? It was her news to give you, not mine.”

Bellamy nods, “Yeah, okay.” I can tell he’s still upset about something. “Alright, well I should head out.” He smirks, “I’ll leave you two to your ‘bonding time.’”

Octavia smiles, “Thanks for letting me have her tonight, Bell.”

He pulls Octavia into a hug, “Of course, O. And, I’m really happy for you.”

Once he lets go of Octavia, I pull him along to the door, “Alright, big guy, get out of here.”

He pulls me out the door with him. “Clarke, is everything okay?”

I nod my head, “Yeah, of course.”

He frowns, “Is everything with O okay? Is this what was getting to you earlier?”

I shake my head quickly, “No.”

He frowns again, searching my eyes, “No, everything isn’t okay? Or no, it’s not what was getting to you.”

I smile reassuringly, “No, Octavia’s pregnancy was not what was bothering me. It was just work stuff.”

He nods, “Okay.” He pulls me into a hug, giving me a proper kiss (which I return enthusiastically).

“Bye, Bell. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay?”

He nods, “Bye Clarke.” He heads down the stairs, and I hear the building door open, then close. I lean back against the wall by my door, scrubbing my hand over my face.

So _that’s_ what a lie tastes like.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I'm noticing a theme - I think most of my smut chapters involve Bell going down on Clarke. I just think it should always happen... 
> 
> I LOVE reading you guys' reviews - they give me all kinds of inspiration and motivation :) So, keep the COMMENTS coming! 
> 
> And please, leave KUDOS if you haven't already!


	29. Bellamy knows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke & Octavia bond some more...  
> Then... Angst. (I'm a jerk)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Clarke just lied to Bellamy about Octavia’s pregnancy status – saying she’s okay when she’s not. BUT she has no choice. She’s bound by ethical obligations. So don’t hate on her for lying to Bell. It’s a professionalism thing… 
> 
> I've actually faced this kind of situation more than once, and it sucks. But it is what it is. 
> 
> ******
> 
> THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH for the reviews and kudos ~ I really appreciate the feedback, and it gives me more motivation to keep going :)  
> Keep them all coming:)
> 
> ******

I walk back into my apartment and Octavia is already sitting on the couch with the TV on, picking out a movie.

I fetch some Ben & Jerry’s pints, along with some spoons (because who needs bowls, really) and plop myself down on the couch next to her. “What are we watching?”

“Knocked up.”

I laugh, “Sounds good.”

Spooning some ice cream into her mouth, Octavia rests her head on my shoulder. “What did Bell want?”

I sigh, “He wanted to know if everything with your pregnancy was okay.”

She frowns, “What did you tell him?”

I shrug, “That everything is fine. I can’t tell him anything else. I wasn’t kidding when I said I can’t and won’t tell him anything about your pregnancy.”

She nods, “Thanks, Clarke. I’m really sorry to put you in a place where you’re having to lie to him.”

”Meh...”

“I’ll tell him, Clarke. Soon. I just need to tell Lincoln, first.”

I smile, “I understand, O. Really. Just, when you tell Bellamy, let me know, okay?”

“Okay.”

“I’m trying to think of ways to mitigate the damage, because once he realizes I lied to him out there, he’s going to be pissed. Some lead time would be nice, so I can at least know when to expect him to arrive pounding angrily at my door.”

She twists her mouth to the side, “Yeah… Shit.”

I sigh, “Yeah. Shit. We didn’t have a choice as far as what to tell him, O. So don’t beat yourself up about it, okay?”

She nods, “Okay.” We both sit back and watch Seth Rogen make an ass of himself while Katherine Heigl is telling him she’s pregnant. Clearly, Octavia’s head is still focused on the Bellamy situation, as is my own. “When I _do_ eventually tell him, do you want me to cover for you? Like, tell him you just found out?”

I shrug, “I don’t know, Octavia. I don’t want to lie to him more than I already am, you know? Yeah, he’s gonna be pissed, but I’d feel worse knowing that I lied about lying to him… The truth always comes out.”

“Good point.”

After a few minutes of movie-watching, I speak up. “So, he looked pretty happy about the prospect of being an uncle.”

Octavia has a beaming smile, “I think he is. When I told him it was twins, he was like ‘built-in sibling,’ which totally sounds like something he would say.”

I nudge her with my shoulder, “He liked being a big brother. He always used to tell me that you made him who he is.”

O rests her head on my shoulder, “I don’t know where I would be if it weren’t for him. I was 13 when mom died. And I was awful to him for a while. I didn’t really know how to deal with the grief, so I took all my anger out on him. He was like my emotional punching bag. I know I was a huge burden.”

I shake my head, “No, I don’t think he saw you that way.”

“How could he _not_? He was just starting college, and he got stuck having to take care of his kid sister instead of having a real college experience.” She sighs, “We had this knockdown-drag-out fight one day. I must have been about 16, and he wouldn’t let me go out to this concert because the venue was like, three hours away, and I would’ve had to stay overnight somewhere. He wasn’t comfortable with it, so I started screaming at him about how he was overbearing and controlling. It devolved into me blaming him for mom dying. The most hurtful thing he ever said to me was that his life ended the day I was born.”

I nod, “I remember that argument. You know he didn’t mean that, right? Like, he _still_ hates himself for saying that to you.”

She nods “Yeah. But it was kind of true. Mom was always busy and overworked. She tried, I know she did. But it doesn’t change the fact that she was barely holding it together with just Bellamy. It wasn’t a responsible decision to have a second kid. She shouldn’t have had me.”

I sit up straight and put my hands on Octavia’s shoulders, pivoting her to face me. “Octavia. Stop. It doesn’t matter whether it was ‘responsible’ to have you. She did, and the world’s a better place for it. Do you remember what Bellamy told you later? After you guys made up?”

She nods but doesn’t say anything.

“He told you that he was wrong. That his life didn’t _begin_ until you were born. And he meant that.”

She starts tearing up, nodding her head. She’s sniffing and blinking rapidly to try and keep the tears at bay, but they fall anyway. “Dammit, I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I keep fucking crying over everything – when something makes me really happy, I cry. If something makes me remotely sad, I cry.”

I chuckle, “Pregnancy hormones…”

She scoffs, “Pregnancy hormones are a pain in my ass! I’m not a crier, Clarke.”

I give her a level look, “Octavia, do you remember how fucking much I cried when I was pregnant? There was a day that I _actually_ cried over _spilled milk._ Okay? I was a blubbering mess some days. Do you know what I did when I had my hormone-induced meltdowns?” She raises her eyebrows, waiting for me to continue. “I found you… Bellamy… Raven… At the time, Lexa. Okay? I had my friends. I had you guys.”

She nods, wiping away more tears.

“And _you_ have _us_. You have a husband, who would tear hell apart for you. A brother who would do the same. And me. I’ve got your back, O.”

She keeps nodding, but cries again. “I know.”

“What’s really going on? You haven’t brought up the ‘my life ended’ argument in a while. Is something else going on?”

She shrugs, “I don’t know. I guess I feel like I’m burdening you with this. On top of that, asking you to keep this secret is hurting Bellamy. Or _will_ hurt Bellamy, when he finds out.”

I shake my head, “First of all, you are not a burden. Second, this isn’t _about_ Bellamy. Or me. This is about you, and the two little lives you have inside of you. I’ll deal with Bellamy. I’m a big girl, and I’ll take accountability for what I had and have to do.”

“If I hadn’t become a patient at your practice, you wouldn’t be in this position.”

I sigh, “Octavia, with your condition, my practice is the best option. Your doc referred you to us because Dr. Walsh and I are the best at what we do. Walsh has been doing this a long time, much longer than I have. He has the sage wisdom. I’m newer, but I bring to the table innovation. It’s why they hired me. I worked a lot with Walsh during my fellowship. In fact, there’s no other doctor I collaborated with more than Dr. Walsh. Together, we have had years of tag-teaming some very complex pregnancies, and we’ve had great outcomes. That’s what I want for you and the babies, O – A great outcome. ”

She nods, “Okay. You’re right.”

I smirk, “I often am.”

We watch the movie for a little while longer before Octavia pipes up again, “Clarke, for what it’s worth, no matter how pissed Bellamy might get, he’ll come around.”

I nod, “Yeah, I think so, too.”

“Clarke?”

“O?”

“Thank you.”

I frown, “Of course. But for what?”

“For this. Hanging out with me and listening to my crazy preggo ramblings… I don’t have my mom here to help me through the craziness of pregnancy.”

I nod, “I know how much it sucks to not have your mom around to guide you through pregnancy. I know it’s not the same – my mom was/is still alive. But my point is, I know what it’s like to be pregnant, wishing your mom was around.”

“Well, still… Thanks.”

“Always, O.”

I grab the throw blankets and wrap them around Octavia and myself, then we settle back in and watch the rest of the movie. She falls asleep before it’s finished, but sleeping on that couch is not the best decision in terms of future back pain, so I prod her awake to ask about sleeping arrangements.

“Hey, O, do you want to sleep in my room tonight?”

She scowls, “Did you and my brother _not_ fuck in those sheets tonight?”

I snicker, “Do you really want to know the answer to that?”

She scoffs, “Disgusting. I’ll sleep in Alex’s room, if you don’t think she’d mind.”

I smile, “You’re welcome to it. I’ll be up at six to get ready for work. Here at Casa de Clarke, we provide complimentary wakeup calls. Would you like one?”

She nods sleepily, “I need to be up around six, too. I’m picking up Lincoln at the airport in the morning.”

“Perfect.”

She starts plodding off down the hallway to Alex’s room, “Good night, Clarke.”

“Sleep tight, Octavia,” I call over my shoulder as I head up the stairs to my own room.

 

* * *

 

 

_Two days later_

 

I’m on my computer reading up on world events when my phone rings. It’s Octavia.

“Octavia, what’s up?”

I hear her blow out a big breath of air, “Bellamy knows.”

I take a deep breath. “Okay. What did you tell him?”

She sighs, “I didn’t. Lincoln did. He had assumed that you would have told Bellamy already. I didn’t make it clear enough to Lincoln, you know, about the confidentiality thing. So he figured Bellamy already knew.”

“Okay. Did Lincoln tell you about this?”

“No. Apparently Bell played it off like he already knew, so Lincoln didn’t think anything of it. Next thing I know, Bellamy is over here freaking the fuck out on me. He googled ‘placenta problems in pregnancy,’ and now he thinks I’m about to keel over and die.”

I lean forward, my elbows on my knees, my forehead propped up in the palm of my hand. “Shit…”

I hear her sniff, and I know she’s about to cry. “He asked if you knew, and I didn’t know what to say.”

To reassure her, I speak up, “Octavia, I told you already, it’s not your job to cover for me.”

“Well, based on my hesitation to answer his question, he connected the dots pretty quickly. I tried to assure him that I’m in the best hands, and that I’m _not_ in mortal danger or whatever. But still, he was… hurt. And by the time he left, he was crossing over into ‘pissed’ territory.”

Tears are burning behind my eyes, “Thanks for the heads-up, O. I’ve gotta think about how I’m going to handle him… Any suggestions?”

I hear her take a deep breath, “I couldn’t really get a read on him, Clarke. I mean, you know how hot-headed he is. Like I said, he seemed to be getting pissed, kind of agitated. I want to say give him some time, but I don’t know.”

“Okay. Again, thanks for letting me know. I’ll figure this out.”

“Talk to you soon, okay?”

“Sounds good.”

After hanging up with Octavia, I deliberate for a few minutes before deciding to just face the problem head-on. I dial Bellamy. It rings once and goes to voicemail, so I know he hit “ignore.” He hasn’t ignored a call from me since college, and that was during one of our more intense fights. Yeah, he’s pissed.

I send him a text message.

**_I’m sorry._ **

**_Don’t, Clarke._ **

I don’t get a response after that. An hour later, I call again but it goes to voicemail within two rings. So, I text him again.

**_If you need space, fine._ **

**_But don’t shut me out_ **

**_Please_ **

I don’t get an answer after that, either. I’m trying not to panic, but the fear is bubbling in my throat. Fear that he’s not going to forgive me. Fear that I’ve lost him. I’ve never been this committed to someone, and the thought of losing him is threatening to unravel me. I’m reminded just how fragile and vulnerable I am now, and I hear Lexa’s voice in my head… _Love is weakness_.

My default reaction to this situation is to shut down. I feel my walls reconstructing themselves with unprecedented speed. I’m consciously trying to fight it, but it’s a defense mechanism, an attempt to mitigate damage to myself. Compartmentalize. _I don’t need him… He doesn’t need me. I don’t need him._

_He doesn’t want me…_

And there it is. _Fear of abandonment._ I remember now. When I let people in, I’m vulnerable. They have too much power to hurt me. I need to get out of my apartment, because my deeply-rooted trust issues are threatening to undo me, and the more time I have by myself to over-think this, the worse it is. I decide to head to Grounders. Sure, it’s a bar, and alcohol is probably not the best idea, but I don’t have work tomorrow. I need a drink…

 

* * *

 

I’m standing in front of our old college hangout. Grounders was our home base in undergrad. Bellamy started bartending here our junior year, which meant that this was where everyone congregated. Its familiarity is a source of comfort, which is probably why I chose to come here. It’s probably why Bellamy chose to come here as well…

Bellamy is one of the many patrons lined up along the bar. He’s sitting on a bar stool, shoulders slumped, nursing a tumbler of what appears to be a dark amber-colored alcohol. I take a few moments by the door to compose myself, considering the option of turning around and finding somewhere else.

Nothing could have prepared me for what I see next. Bellamy is approached by a woman, one he clearly knows. Their relaxed body language implies familiarity. _Okay… it doesn’t mean anything. They know each other. Bellamy knows lots of women._ She leans into him, tangling her fingers into his dark curls. He’s not pushing her away. No, the opposite – he brings a hand to her waist. I’m overcome by nausea as I witness the shared intimacy between this woman and the love of my life. I shake my head and blink my eyes rapidly, trying to see if maybe my vision is betraying me. I’m wishing my vision was anything _but_ clear when this woman – this gorgeous, tall, slender, dark-haired woman – has her lips pressed to his. It’s a vicious punch to the gut. As he kisses her back, it’s like the air has been forced from my lungs, like someone is sitting on my chest so I can’t breathe in. Oh my god. I need to get away from here. I can’t see this.

I spin on my heel and make it out the door. I feel the bile rising in my throat as I think about Bellamy and the mystery woman. I manage to make it into an alley as my stomach contents are ejected onto the pavement. I stand back up and stumble away from the vomit puddle. I make it about ten feet before my body is wracked by sobs. I fall back against the brick wall of one of the buildings that line the alley, sliding down until I’m sitting in a heap on the cold pavement, leaning against the masonry. Once I’m able to breathe somewhat more steadily, I pull out my phone. I consider calling Octavia, but I really don’t want to drag her into this mess any more than she already is. Instead, I dial the second most frequently-called number. It picks up within three rings.

“Clarke?”

I breathe a shaky sigh of relief that it didn’t go to voicemail, “Jane.”

Her concern is evident in her voice, “Honey, are you crying? What’s wrong?”

I can hear the tears in my voice, “I’m sorry to call the house so late. I thought I was calling Nate’s cell. I didn’t want to wake Alex.”

“Don’t worry about it. What’s going on?”

“A lot… I really don’t want to go back to my apartment tonight.”

“Then come over here. I’ll get the guest room set up. Do you need one of us to come pick you up?”

“I would really appreciate that.”

I can hear her compassion in her voice, “Of course. Where are you?”

“I’m sitting in an alley outside of Grounders…” I feel the need to clarify, “Just so you know, I haven’t been drinking, I just didn’t bring my car.”

I hear her talking to someone near her, presumably Nate. “Clarke?”

“I’m still here.”

“Nate is on his way. Sit tight, okay?”

“I will. Thank you guys.”

“Clarke, you know we’re always here for you. I’m glad you called. I’ll see you soon.”

“Bye.”

I wait in the alleyway for about ten minutes before my phone rings. It’s Nate, asking where to meet me. I tell him I’ll be waiting by the curb outside the bar. A few minutes later, I’m sliding into the passenger seat of Nate’s car. I see Alex’s booster seat in the back, and I’m comforted that I’ll get to see her tomorrow.

“Thanks for coming to get me.”

“Yeah. Of course.” After a few minutes, he chuckles.

I scoff, “What?”

“I was just thinking about the first time we… met.”

I let out a bark of laughter, “Shit. Yeah, that’s _the_ bar.” The bar where I let a hot stranger fuck me against the wall of the women’s bathroom. “I didn’t think about that.” I welcome _any_ topic of conversation that doesn’t remind me of Bellamy.

He smirks, “If you could go back in time, what would you tell yourself that night?”

I shrug, “I would tell myself to go ahead and let loose. Have some fun. Be irresponsible… I’d probably point out that the hot blue-eyed blonde guy at the other end of the bar is probably a good fuck... How about you?”

He laughs, “I’d probably tell myself that the blonde bombshell a few seats down would be really into me that night.”

I feel a smile across my face, “Nothing about checking the expiration date of the condom in your wallet?”

He shakes his head with a laugh, “For one thing, we don’t know for sure that the condom was actually expired.”

“True.”

He continues, “Really, though… I can’t imagine life without Alex.”

I nod thoughtfully, “That’s a good answer.”

“Hey, you want to spend the weekend with the three of us? We were going to go out to Jane’s parents’ place.”

I nod with a smile, “I would like that.”  

We pull into the driveway of Nate & Jane’s house and we’re greeted by Jane, who pulls me into a hug as soon as I get out of the car. It’s late, and we all want to get some sleep, so I head to the guest room. As I crawl under the sheets, I curl myself into a ball.

Silent tears fall down onto the pillow as I feel my heart breaking in my chest. My mind is flooded with images of Bellamy and the woman at the bar… I keep picturing him waking up with _her_ draped over his bare chest… tying _her_ wrists together and binding her to the bedposts… Doing to _her_ what he does with me...

I hate that I trusted him with my heart. I hate that I let him _break_ me like this.

 

* * *

 

I wake up when I feel a dip in the mattress, followed a tiny arm coming up to wrap itself over my side. I open my eyes and turn around to face my little Alex, who gives me a kiss on the nose. She gives me a cute little smile, then closes her eyes and burrows herself into my side. I pull her into my arms, wrapping myself around her. She’s such a comfort right now. I refuse to put her in a position that forces her “parent” me, but I can appreciate the comfort she gives.

“Hey baby girl…”

She grumbles, “It’s 9:30. Dad woke me up.” She burrows a little more into my side.

“Yeah, I hear we’re going somewhere this weekend.”

She pops her head up with a grin “Yep. We’re gonna stay the night with Jane’s mom and dad.”

I smile, “I haven’t seen Jeanne and Robert in months. It’ll be good to see them.”

“They adore me.”

“Of course they do. Do you have special names for them yet?”

She furrows her brows, “What kind of special names?”

“Well they’ll basically be another set of grandparents. So, if you want to give them special names, you should. I know they think of you as a granddaughter already.”

She nods, “Well, I call her mom ‘Gigi’ because he name is Jeanne.”

I laugh, “That’s cute. I bet Jeanne likes it.”

Alex smiles and cuddles into my side again, “She does. Now I want ten more minutes of sleep, so be quiet. Dad thinks I came in to wake you up.”

I snort, “Yeah, right, Alex. He knows better than to try and get _you_ to wake _me_ up. He knows we’re just gonna cuddle and fall back asleep.”

She shrugs, “Okay… Well let’s cuddle until we’re found out, ‘kay?”

“Good plan.”  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, I'm such a jerk. Apparently I can't have just one side of this duo experience emotional turmoil... 
> 
> I have the next chapter just about ready to post, which will give us Bellamy's take on things. 
> 
> REVIEWS feed my muse ~ And KUDOS make me smile :-)


	30. don't you dare come near me right now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bellamy + Stupid drunkenness = Oops? 
> 
> Clarke is more pissed than ever
> 
> All this = More angst... 
> 
> This starts with Bellamy's POV, after he leaves Octavia's place (basically taking place at the same time as Clarke's conversation with Octavia).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOLY SHIT! YOU GUYS ARE AMAZING!!!  
> I'm floored by all the reactions! But bumps in the road make them stronger in the end, okay?  
> It's their first big fight as a _couple_ , and it's a big one. 
> 
> ***
> 
> ALSO: I just want to clarify that Clarke/Nate will never be a thing. I was NOT trying to hint at that possibility last chapter. Nate and Jane are a unit, and they serve as a source of support for Clarke. That's it. They all have a pretty unconventional relationship, but I speak from experience when I say that the situation is possible...

 

[Bellamy POV]

My phone rings with Clarke’s ringtone. I send it to voicemail. I can’t talk to her right now because I don’t want to say things I’ll later regret. I can’t believe she kept this from me. Octavia’s life hangs in the balance and Clarke can’t spare a fucking minute to tell me about it? I wave down the bartender for a refill on my scotch, instructing him to keep them coming. Scotch is my go-to drink when I’m in a shitty mood. Not because it improves my mood. Rather, it _matches_ my mood in some way. I haven’t had scotch in a long time…

My phone chimes with a message from Clarke, apologizing. I assume she spoke with Octavia. I’m not in the mood to deal with her right now. I text her back something terse as the bartender delivers my next drink. Clarke replies that she’ll give me some space, which is exactly what I need right now. I just need tonight. Somewhere deep down, I know I’m being too hard on her. But tonight, I just want to ignore it and wallow. I pocket my phone again and return to my drink. I chat with the bartender – I trained the guy years ago, so it’s nice to catch up and talk about _anything_ but Clarke or my sister.

A familiar, friendly voice pops up behind me. “Why am I not surprised to see you here?” Echo. She’s a model, with a certain “look” that appeals to high fashion. Her facial expressions always make her look like she’s in the middle of a photoshoot. Her smile is attractive, but somehow _detached_. Like she’s posing. I guess I didn’t really notice that until now. Regardless, she’s smiling, like she’s happy to see a familiar face. Echo and I used to come here now and then before she moved away. Our breakup was amicable, mutual. We weren’t exactly committed in the first place. Hell, we weren’t even exclusive. Our dynamic worked really well, but there were things I couldn’t give her or participate in. Specifically, needle play and blood play. Those are past my hard limits, but practically a requirement for Echo, so she had other play partners who fulfilled those needs.

I stand up to greet her and she pulls me in for a friendly hug, which is different for Echo. She wasn’t a publicly affectionate person. I give her a smile, “Wow, it’s good to see you. It looks like California is treating you well.”

She smirks, “I can’t complain.”

“What are you doing in town?”

“Just visiting family. My sister is getting married tomorrow. I’m in the wedding, so I can’t get too trashed.”

I raise my glass, “That’s too bad. I’m on my like, fifth round. I think.” I haven’t exactly been drinking slowly, so it is all kind of hitting me at once. I sit back down on the barstool.

“I’ve missed you, B.” There’s something I thought I’d never hear from Echo. She didn’t _do_ sentimentality. “Talia and Lucas tell me you’ve got a serious thing going.”

I nod, “I don’t want to talk about her right now.”

She raises an eyebrow, “Trouble in paradise?”

I nod, taking another sip of my Scotch, “Yup.” I end the word with a “pop” sound.

Echo doesn’t push it any farther. Instead, we catch up on life, what she’s been up to, what I’ve been up to. We stay away from the subject of Clarke. Well, we stay away from everything personal, because Echo was not really part of my personal life. She was a play partner and sort-of friend, not exactly in my inner circle. She leaves to answer a phone call, leaving me alone to stew on my Clarke-related thoughts some more. Echo reappears by my side and puts her hand on my shoulder.

My vision is doubling now. I vaguely register that Echo is weaving fingers through my hair. She’s whispering something in my ear, like “ _You seem tense, B…”_ I nod ass my vision is doubling. The world has gotten all “spinny” and I haphazardly reach out to grab onto something. I realize too late that the “something” I am gripping is Echo. Next thing I know, she’s kissing me. It dawns on me that I’m kissing her back, and as soon as I realize that, I recoil.

I’m shaking my head as I stumble backwards away from the bar, tripping into a few people behind me. “No. No… I’m with Clarke.”

“B, we both know you’re _not_ really the monogamous type.”

I shake my head, “Yeah, you don’t actually know me, Echo. I have to go.”

I stumble out of the bar, feeling like complete and total shit. I somehow end up at Octavia’s door, where she’s staring me down, arms crossed and judgmental.

“Well, big brother… How shit-faced _are_ you? You reek.”

I shrug, “I’m pretty fucked up, O.”

She raises an eyebrow, “Well, the second bedroom is technically still a guest room until we get the nursery set up. You can sleep it off. But we’re talking in the morning.”

I nod, making my way over to the guest room, probably weaving in my strides. “Thanks, O.”

 

* * *

 

I wake up with the _definition_ of a hangover.   I feel like there are sweaters on my teeth, like my mouth is filled with cotton. I roll to my side and it feels like the world tilts on its axis. It’s even worse when I attempt to sit up. Images of last night come flooding back in force. Echo’s lips on mine… fingers tangled in my hair… Kissing her back. Shit... I make my way into the bathroom. I can see in the mirror that I look as about as shitty as I feel. I’m relieved to smell greasy breakfast food cooking in the kitchen, which is my next destination.

Octavia is in the kitchen, cooking up bacon and eggs, and probably some other stuff, but my focus is on the bacon… I grab for a strip of the marbled meat and Octavia smacks at my hands with the spatula.

“Hands off, Bell. Go sit down.”

I grumble in protest, but head to the table anyway. Lincoln is sitting at the table already, laptop out, scrolling through photos from his recent excursion. He gives me a nod of the head and kicks the chair across from him away from the table, signaling for me to sit down. O brings breakfast in, kissing Lincoln on the cheek as she sits down in the adjacent seat.

“So. What the fuck happened last night? I haven’t seen you that shit-faced in a long time.”

I sigh, “Fuck, O. I don’t know. I went to the bar, started pounding back Scotch after Scotch. Next thing I know, I’m knocking on your front door.”

“You have to talk to Clarke, you know. She didn’t have a choice about telling you. I told her to wait because I needed to process this with Lincoln first. She respected my wishes as a patient.”

“Yeah, but O, you’re my fucking sister. Your life is in danger, and she kept that from me.”

“Bellamy don’t be an asshole. It’s _my_ life. I have the best possible doctors for this condition, one of them being Clarke.”

I nod, “Yeah, and she’d still be your doctor but she didn’t have to hide this from me.”

Octavia has this remarkable ability to simultaneously roll her eyes and narrow them disapprovingly, “Do you hear yourself right now? I trust her. As my doctor, I _need_ to trust her. And part of being my doctor means she is bound by doctor-patient confidentiality. Think about if she _had_ told you. It would break _my_ trust in her. I need to be able to trust the person who basically holds my life and the life of my babies in her hands.”

“Yeah, well what about _my_ trust?”

Octavia sighs, “I’m sorry, Bell. Maybe it was selfish of me to ask her to keep this from you, but I get to be a little selfish right now. I wasn’t going to keep this from you much longer. Lincoln and I needed to adjust to this first. You were the next person we were going to tell.”

I can feel myself being petulant, and I need to snap out of it.

Octavia continues, “What I can tell you now is that you being like _this_ – punishing Clarke because of something I asked of her – _is_ stressing me out. So get your shit together because stress is not good for me or the babies right now.”

“Yeah, O. I know. I just needed a night. I’ll go by today and see her.”

She nods approvingly, “Good. Now eat.”

I don't realize until now that Lincoln as been completely silent this entire time.  I guess he's aware of when he needs to sit tight and let Octavia take charge.  One more reason the guy is pretty much perfect for my sister...

 

* * *

 

After a long shower and probably seven cups of coffee, Octavia drops me off at the bar so I can pick up my car. Thankfully, I didn’t drive my car when I left Grounders. I still don’t remember how I got to Octavia’s, but she told me I came in a cab. I head over to Clarke’s first thing. I text her a few times, but don’t get a reply. She isn’t answering her door. Her car is in its parking space. I let myself in, calling out to let her know I’m here, but get no answer. The apartment is empty. I call her, but it goes straight to voicemail, so her phone must be off. I leave a message apologizing for the silent treatment, and that I need to talk to her, please call me back. I send her a text to the same effect. I head back to my place and put the TV on, trying to distract myself from the lingering feeling that something has gone wrong.

 

* * *

 

 

[Clarke POV]

 

The weekend with Alex, Nate and Jane was exactly what I needed. It’s easy to keep my mind off the heartache when I have Alex’s smile, Nate’s terrible ‘dad jokes’ and Jane’s never-ending stream of stories of medical mishaps.

I walk in the door and he’s left a note on the kitchen counter.

_Call me. -B_

I tear up the note and toss it into the trash.

I had turned my phone off for the weekend, not turning it back on until I  back home. Unsurprisingly, I had several texts waiting for me from Bellamy.

Saturday, 10:44 AM

**_Can we talk now?_ **

Saturday, 11:17AM

**_I’m at your house._ **

**_Your car is here_ **

**_But you’re not_ **

**_Where are you?_ **

Saturday, 12:15 PM

**_I’m sorry for the silent treatment_ **

**_I’m an idiot_ **

**_Please call me_ **

Saturday, 12:53 PM

**_I need to talk to you_ **

**_You said you’d give me space_ **

**_I’ve had enough space_ **

**_Call me, please._ **

Saturday 5:11 PM

**_I’m back at your place and you’re obviously not here_ **

**_Call me_ **

* * *

 

On Monday, I’m back in the office. Bellamy shows up around lunch, which shouldn’t surprise me.

He barges into my office, “Clarke, where the hell have you been?”

I shake my head, glaring a hole in his head, “You shouldn’t have come here. I’m working, Blake. Now get out.”

He frowns, “How am _I_ the bad guy in this? _You’re_ the one who lied to _me_!”

My voice is low, “Get. The. Fuck. Out. Now.” He doesn’t move. “Leave, or I’m calling security.”

He backs out of my office, “This isn’t over. We’re talking about whatever the hell is going on.”

“Don’t act like you don’t know what the fuck I’m talking about. Fuck you, Bellamy.”

He turns around and leaves. I finish out my day, proud of myself for managing to not let my personal life bleed over into work, with the exception of Bellamy showing up. At least he left without making a scene. As I’m packing up, Alex texts me to remind me to pick up milk on my way home. My phone rings, and Octavia’s picture pops up. I pick it up, since it could be something actually important.

“Hi Octavia.”

“Hey, Clarke – Bell said he’s been trying to get hold of you, but you’ve been MIA.”

I sigh, “Yeah, O. I needed some time away.”

“Okay… What’s going on?”

“It’s Bellamy, and you don’t need to get in the middle of it, O.”

“Right. You know I’ll be in the middle of it whether any of us want it or not. So talk to me. Is he still giving you the silent treatment? He said he was going to talk to you on Saturday.”

“Well, I’m not sure what he was up to on Saturday. Possibly still fucking the whore I saw him with at the bar.”

“What. The. Fuck?”

“Friday night - I was going to Grounders to get a drink because, well, I needed a fucking drink. Bellamy wouldn’t talk to me, just sent one text in reply. So I told him I’d give him some space. Then I started this self-destructive spiral because I was home alone and thinking too much, so I needed to get out of the apartment, so I went to a bar. Yeah, it probably wasn’t the best idea to go drinking when I was in a bad mood, but whatever. I didn’t even consider that Bell would be there.”

“Okay, so he was there. How do we go from there to him fucking some random whore?”

“He was sitting at the bar and some bitch was all over him. I was standing in the doorway, like in shock that he wasn’t getting rid of her.”

“Well maybe he was drunk.”

I bark out a laugh, “Well, does that excuse him making out with her? Because that’s what fucking happened next.”

“That doesn’t sound like Bellamy.”                                 

“Well, sounding like him or not, it’s what I saw. And he was fucking _into_ it.”

“Okay, well… I hate to ask this, but were _you_ drinking?”

I’m scoffing, “No, Octavia. I didn’t make it past the door. And after that display I bolted.”

She sighs, “Jesus, Clarke. This doesn’t make sense.”

I’m in tears at this point, “I know what I saw, Octavia. He was making out with someone who wasn’t me.   We agreed at the beginning of all of this that this was an exclusive thing. No seeing other people.”

“No, it doesn’t make sense because he showed up on Friday night at my door step. He was drunk. Like, fucked out of his mind drunk. I don’t know what he was up to before he showed up here, but it was only like, ten PM.”

“I don’t know, either. I ended up sitting in an alley until Nate came and picked me up. I spent the rest of the weekend with Alex, Nate and Jane in the country. We saw Jane’s parents.”

“Have you talked to Bell yet?”

“No. Well, kind of. He came by the office at lunch. I told him to get the fuck out.”

She sighs, “I just know that he was here by ten. I don’t think he was fucking anyone Friday night. I mean, it doesn’t excuse him making out with someone else, but I don’t think it went farther than that.”

“What do I do, O?”

“Talk to him, okay?”

I sniff, “I wanted to punch him in the face this afternoon. I don’t know what I’ll do if I see him when I don’t have patients around to judge me.”

“Clarke. You guys have something special. Don’t throw it away, not without talking first. Maybe it wasn’t what you thought.”

I take a deep breath. “I’ll think about it, O.”

“Hey, you always told me, don’t make rash decisions when you’re angry. So I’ll tell you the same thing, okay? Don’t do anything rash right now.”

“Okay. Alex is waiting for me at home, so I’ve gotta put myself back together before I get there.”

We say our goodbyes and I start heading home.

 

* * *

 

 

Fuck if Bellamy’s car isn’t parked in my apartment’s visitor lot. Fucker. I head upstairs, stopping for a few moments outside my own door. When I open it, he’s sitting on the couch while Alex does her homework at the coffee table.

I put the groceries on the kitchen counter and start putting them away. I don’t really want Alex witnessing this, so I put on my game face. “Bellamy, are you staying for dinner?”

Alex pipes up, “Duh, mom. I told him he could.”

I glare at Bellamy as he’s getting up from the couch. He comes into the kitchen. My voice is low but clearly infuriated, “That’s low, Bellamy. Really fucking low. Coming over when Alex is around?”

“I didn’t know she would be here. I should have left when she told me you weren’t home yet, but she asked me for help on her homework, so I stayed. I didn’t even think about the possibility that she would be here. I’m sorry, though.

I raise an eyebrow, “Sorry?”

He shrugs, “I should have left. I took a chance that you wouldn’t kick me out in front of her. I’m sorry for using her.”

“Whatever. We aren’t going to have this talk until after dinner. Until then, everything is "peachy," you understand?”

He nods, “Got it.”

“I'm dead serious, we are NOT using her to mediate an argument. Think you can fake liking me for half an hour until she goes to bed?”

“Clarke, what? Fake liking you? I don’t have to fake that.”

“Save it, Bellamy. Go set the fucking table.”

He does so. We do a great job playing nice through dinner. I get Alex to bed and turn on her white noise machine.

I come back into the kitchen and he’s finishing the dishes. I clear my throat and nod at the stairs leading to my bedroom. I would have led him into the hallway outside, but I don’t want to make a scene in front of my neighbors. He walks up the stairs and I follow behind at a distance far enough that won’t allow me to throw him down the stairs. We get to my room and I turn on the white noise machine as I close my door. He notices.

His voice is dripping with sarcasm, “Why do I feel like that’s not because we’ll be too loud having fun in here?”

“That’s rich, asshole.”

He throws his hands up and turns around to face me. “What the fuck, Clarke? What do you fucking want from me?”

“NOTHING BELLAMY!” I take a deep breath, trying to blink back the tears building up behind my eyes. “Not from you.”

“What the fuck does that mean? What is going on?”

“ONE FIGHT, BELLAMY!” The tears are definitely falling now. “One fight is all it took for you to go back to your—your bullshit!”

“WHAT ARE YOU FUCKING TALKING ABOUT, CLARKE?”

I shake my head and sit on the side of the bed, “You’re going to make me say it?” He sits on the bed next to me, but I scoot farther away from him. I can’t look at him now, so I focus intently on my fingers, wondering why my fingernails are so long. I remind myself to clip them before I go into the hospital tomorrow.

“Yeah, Clarke. You have to tell me what the fuck you’re ripping into me for.”

I whisper shakily, “I was there.” He’s silent. Like he’s awaiting clarification. “At the bar.”

He scrubs his hands over his face, “Oh god, Clarke… That’s not—it wasn’t what you think.” He puts his hand on mine and I flinch, pulling away from him as I jump to my feet and move away from the bed.

“Don’t TOUCH me!”

He stands up and tries to walk toward me, but I step farther away, moving to the other side of the room. “Clarke, no… That wasn’t…” He can’t seem to find words.

“It wasn’t _what_ , Bellamy? It _wasn’t_ some random bitch with her tongue down your throat?”

“No, it was-” he pauses, words stuck in his throat.

I’m shaking my head again, “ _Fuck_ , Bellamy don’t fucking tell me you actually _knew_ her.”

He shakes his head, looking at the floor, “No… It was Echo.”

I think my jaw is hinged open while I think about this. “Oh my god, that is _so much worse!_ You called your fucking EX GIRLFRIEND?! You fucking asshole!”

He shakes his head, “No, Clarke, I didn’t call her. She was already there!”

Bellamy keeps trying to move closer to me, and I keep dodging his touch, moving to different parts of the room to get away from him. “I _SAID_ , _DON’T. TOUCH. ME_!” He looks incredibly hurt by this demand, but it’s got nothing on the betrayal I’m still feeling. My entire body is trembling as I sob. I feel like my grief threatening to swallow me whole.

He looks panicked, on the verge of tears himself. “Please, just listen to me. Let me explain.”

I glare at him but nod, wiping tears from my eyes. “You have two minutes. And you stand over _there_ and talk. Don’t you _dare_ come near me right now.”

He swallows, “I was really fucking drunk, Clarke.” I roll my eyes, but I don’t say anything, so he continues. “I didn’t realize what was happening until she was kissing me. I was so drunk, the entire fucking world was spinning around me.”

My voice is back to a shaky whisper, “Bell, you were kissing her _back_. Do you know what it felt like to see that? To see the love of your life kissing some bitch in the way he is only supposed to kiss you?”

He nods, “Yeah, I have a pretty good fucking idea what that feels like.”

Incredulous, I scoff, “So this is payback or something?”

He pinches the bridge of his nose, “God, fuck… No. It has nothing to do with this. I was just answering your question. I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

I bite back, “Then get back to your ‘explanation’ Bellamy. You’re running out of time.”

He closes his eyes with an exhausted sigh, “Like I said, I didn’t realize what was happening. She came onto me. As soon as I realized what was happening I put a stop to it, Clarke.”

I’m blinking fast, trying to hold back more tears. I’m _so close_ to looking like I’m holding it together. “How far did it go, Bellamy?”

His hands are up in a placating manner, “Not far. Like I said, as soon as I realized it was Echo kissing me… That it wasn’t _you_ , I flinched out of her grasp and I got the hell out of there.”

I scoff, “How did _she_ react to that?”

He throws his hands up again, “Fuck if I know. I don’t fucking care. I left, Clarke. I ended up at Octavia’s. I don’t even remember the trip there.”

I nod, “So if I were to ask the bartender, would he corroborate this?”

“Yeah, it was Sterling. He knows me, so he’d remember me being there. And I have an email receipt from the cab company.”

I roll my eyes, “You don’t remember the trip, but you were coherent enough to give them your email address, Bellamy?”

He shakes his head, “No, we have that account set up with them already, remember? Every time we use my credit card with them it emails me the receipt.” He pulls up the email on his phone, “Look.”

I gingerly reach out for the phone and read over the email, which supports his version of events. I take a cleansing breath and sit back down on the bed, tipping my head toward the spot next to me. I believe him.

I’m looking down at my hands again, fixedly glaring at my cuticles this time. “So, you’re so pissed at me, you got nearly blackout drunk to deal with it?” He puts his hands over mine again, but this time I don’t recoil.

“Clarke, yeah, I’m pissed. But I didn’t think about the fact that I’ve barely touched a drink since we’ve been together. So my alcohol tolerance is apparently really fucking low. I didn’t go there planning to get so fucking wasted.”

I raise an eyebrow, “Really?” After a few moments, “Yeah… I guess we haven’t really partied a lot.”

He shrugs, “When we go out, we typically stick to one drink if we’re drinking at all. I mean, I didn’t really think about that until yesterday, wondering how I was so fucking blitzed after five drinks. That used to be like, nothing for me.”

“That’s true.” It’s strange to think about that, since Bellamy and I used to be ridiculously competitive in our drinking games, and both of us had a dangerously high alcohol tolerance back in the day. To go from that to near abstinence without thinking about it… I don’t know what to think of that, but I guess it’s a healthy move, even if it wasn’t intentional. “Yeah, when we’re going out, I’m always too excited about what’s waiting for us at home… I don’t want to be too out of it to enjoy it.”

“Yeah, I think it’s probably a good sign.”

I nod. We sit in a comfortable silence for a while. I lean my head on his shoulder and he puts his arm around my waist. We lay down in the bed, but he doesn’t make any moves on me. We just hold each other for a while. It’s exactly what we both need right now.

I tilt my chin up to look at him. “Are you still angry with me? About the Octavia thing?”

He sighs, “I’m just processing it, Clarke, okay?”

I nod, “Bellamy, I’m sorry. I really _couldn’t_ say anything. It would have violated Octavia’s trust in me. And trust me when I say that Walsh and I are the best possible option in terms of managing these complications. It is imperative that Octavia knows she is safe in my care.”

“I think I understand that, Clarke. O explained that part to me.”

“I told her she didn’t have to do that. I didn’t want her drug into this.”

He shrugs, “I think that was inevitable.”

I nod, “Probably. I just didn’t want to stress her out by asking her to mediate anything. This is _really_ serious. Did she tell you exactly what she has?”

He nods, “Yeah. Placenta previa and placenta accreta. At first, like right after I talked to Lincoln, I looked up general pregnancy complications, which sent me into a spiral… I went over to O’s to ask her what the hell was going on, which probably freaked her out and I shouldn’t have come at her like that…”

I scoff, “Yeah, that probably was kind of stressful.”

“I wasn’t thinking… Anyway, she told me a little bit about what she had. Like, about how she won’t be able to have more kids after this.”

“About that... One of my areas of research has been in something called ‘conservative management’ of placenta accreta.”

He frowns, “What’s that?”

I think about what I’m about to tell him. “I don’t want to get your hopes up. More importantly, I don’t want to get _Octavia’s_ hopes up. But, as we continue to monitor her pregnancy, if the placenta doesn’t grow _too_ deep, I may be able to preserve her uterus. I mentioned it to her earlier, but didn’t go too far into it. Dr. Walsh and I are going to talk to her at her next appointment.”

“So, maybe she could have more kids after this?”

I prop myself up on my elbow, “It’s _possible_. NOT _probable_. But it may be possible. It depends _entirely_ on how the placenta attaches during the rest of her pregnancy.” He nods, but doesn’t say anything. “Please, Bellamy. Don’t talk to her about this right now. I want to do more ultrasounds and testing before we present it as an option.”

“Thanks for telling me.”

“I probably shouldn’t have, but I figure I’ve fucked things up once already. Maybe we can get some good news for her at some point. But again, it all hinges on things that are completely out of our control. We can’t influence the placental attachment depth, we can only monitor it. And even if conservative management _does_ become an option, it’s risky. But like I said, Walsh and I specialize in this. I have published research about this. I’m not kidding when I say that I’m her best option. Not just in this city. Not to toot my own horn, but I’m renowned throughout the country. I presented my research at that conference this fall.”

He raises an eyebrow, “Wow. It’s okay for you to take pride in that, Clarke.”

I chuckle, “Yeah. You’re right. I’ll go ahead and toot that horn, then.”

He nods, “It’s up to Octavia, anyway. If there’s anything I’ve learned from this, it’s that Octavia is going to call the shots when it comes to her own body. Well, I knew that. But it just reinforces that fact.”

I nod, "Well, that's how it should be." 

 

* * *

 

 

We stay curled up in each other in bed for a while. “Are we okay, Bell?”

He rolls us so he’s hovering over me, dipping his head down for a deep, slow, toe-curling kiss. “Yeah, Clarke. We’re okay.”

I smile up at him, “Wanna fool around, then? I’ve been deprived of you for like, five days now.”

He smirks, “If I ever answer that question with a ‘no,’ you have permission to take me out and shoot me, because clearly it would mean I have like, brain damage or something and need to be put out of my misery.”

I laugh, “Well, let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

He strokes my cheek with his thumb, looking down at me with undeniable affection.  “I love you Clarke, okay? One fight isn’t going to change that. A thousand fights won’t change that.”

“I believe you, Bellamy. I love you too. I’m sorry for freaking out on you.”

He shakes his head with a soft laugh, laying soft kisses along my neck between his words. “You have no idea how many times I was ready to go on a jealous rampage over you in the past 15 years.”

I raise an eyebrow, “Really? When?”

“Any time I saw Nate, I wanted to strangle him because he got to _have_ you.”

“Bell, he _never_ ‘had’ me. He was a quick fuck, and I just happened to get a souvenir from it. A wonderful souvenir who has been the light of my life. But still, there will _never_ be anything between Nate and me. Okay?”

He laughs, “Okay.”

“When else?”

“You getting off on my jealousy issues, Princess?”

I smirk at him, “Maybe I am…”

“Finn. Finn was the fucking worst.”

I sigh, “Yeah. That’s probably one of the big reasons that I went straight to thinking you were cheating on me. His bullshit fucked me up.”

He kisses me again, “Clarke, _please_ stop saying things like that. You’re not fucked up. You were affected by a shitty situation. You’re not fucked up.”

I pull him down for another kiss, this time my fingers start making their way under the hem of his shirt, my fingernails gently scratching the skin of his toned abdomen.

He cradles my head with one hand, unbuttoning my shirt with his other hand. “Can we stop talking about your exes, please?”

“How about you do something to make me forget?”

He smirks, “Challenge accepted, Princess.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to end this with some smutty goodness, but I wasn't sure how long it would take for me to compose a scene for makeup sex (My head is swimming with oh sooooo many ideas. I have to organize them into a toe-curling scene for your enjoyment). 
> 
>  
> 
> As I keep saying, REVIEWS FEED MY MUSE!!!! I probably wouldn't have gotten this chapter out so quickly had it not been for you guys motivating the hell out of me :-) So keep them coming, please!!!


	31. does it frighten you?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bellamy + Clarke = MAKEUP SEX!!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to have this ready to go two days ago, but life got in the way... Alas, it is here now :) 
> 
> THANK YOU ALL for your great comments, reviews, kudos, etc. I really love the feedback! Keep it coming, please!!!
> 
> *Trigger Warnings*  
> Knives ;)

_“How about you do something to make me forget?”_

_“Challenge accepted, Princess.”_

[Clarke POV]

Bellamy rolls off of me briefly, and I whine in protest, “ _Bell…_ Where are you going?”

He chuckles, “Music.”

I nod with a smile, “Good idea...” I center myself in the bed while he fiddles with the stereo. I hear the quiet pizzicato strings pluck as _Sail_ by AWOLNATION starts to play. He comes back to the bed, crawling his way back up my body as the dizzying synth rhythms come through the speaker.

“I didn’t know this song was in any of our playlists.”

Bellamy shakes his head, “New playlist.”

I nod in approval as he focuses his attention on my body. He lays slow, tantalizing kisses along the side of my neck. It’s almost animalistic, the way he slowly laves his tongue over my now-racing pulse point. I feel a shiver shoot through me when he methodically and deliberately scrapes his teeth over my carotid artery, laving his tongue over the bounding pulse point. I’m still not sure how this is going to go – Slow and methodical? Fast and rough? The anticipation roils through me as I try and read the clues… He spends a long time caressing my neck with his tongue. The precision with which he is targeting my blood vessels, along with the shiver-inducing scrape of his teeth above them lead me to believe that this will get rough soon enough…

He sits up and straddles my hips, then gently works his fingers underneath the lapels of my button-down blouse, then almost _timidly_ unbuttons the top button. ( _Okay, so maybe sweet?)_. Without warning, he aggressively rips it open, sending buttons flying across the room. At least one of them has hit the wall, but that's the last thought I can spare for my laundry as Bellamy bends back own and dips his tongue into the hollow of my throat. I bring my arms up around his neck and thread my fingers through his hair, mostly as a test to see what kind of freedoms they’ll be afforded tonight. He shakes his head as his own hands dart up to grab my wrists, and he pins them straight above my head, practically slamming them into the headboard. It’s not painful, but it’s a clear assertion of his dominance tonight. I bite my lip and nod my head in acknowledgement of his unspoken orders.

Bellamy sits back up as he runs his fingers back down my arms. When his fingers meet my neck, he starts slowly and lightly trailing his fingers along the midline of my body in a serpentine pattern, causing goosebumps to erupt over my entire body. He shifts back as his fingers near my pants so he can unbutton them. He then kneels and inches backwards until his legs are straddling my knees. Excitement builds up inside me as he walks his fingers back up my legs until he reaches the zipper, which he unzips _so fucking slowly_. Then, almost sweetly, he holds his hands out and signals for me to take them. I comply and he pulls me into a sitting position. He sits back on his heels but still towers over me. My thoughts begin to evaporate as he pulls me into a searing kiss, his fingers leave trails of fire as they travel back up my arms until one cups my face and the other curls around the back of my neck.

When Bellamy breaks the kiss, I groan in protest, but as he stands up, he pulls me with him. He straightens me up and brushes his hands along my body, almost like he’s dusting me off. He drops to his knees and leans his forehead against my pubic bone. I want to brush my fingers through his messy curls, but I know better than to move right now. The palms of his hands travel determinedly from the back of my knees up to the small of my back before settling back down to cup my ass. He brings his hands to the outside of my hips where he gathers the slack material in his fingers. He pauses like this for a moment, then suddenly yanks them down off my hips. Once they get to my knees, he lets them drop to the floor. He nudges me, signaling that I can step out of them. He reaches up to the bottom hem of my now button-free blouse and tugs it down. I maneuver my shoulders to accommodate his efforts to divest me of my top and I’m left in only my bra and underwear.

He narrows his eyes, “How much do you like this lingerie set, Princess?”

I shrug, “Um, neutral? Not my favorite... It’s not even a matching set. I didn’t exactly plan on anyone seeing them tonight. Why?”

Bellamy produces a small folded knife. “Trust me?”

I nod as I feel my pulse quicken, “Just don’t… cut me, okay?”

He gives me a sincere look, “I don’t do blood play. No cutting. You’ve gotta stay _real_ still, though, Princess.” I swallow thickly and he chuckles,

I nod, clearing my throat of the apprehension. “Okay.”

“Hands behind your back. Grasp your forearms.” I comply as my heart falls into a wild rhythm. “You know your safe words?”

“Red for stop. Yellow for slow down.”

“Good. Use them if you need to.”

He holds the edge of the knife near my navel. He _slowly_ and _deliberately_ drags the blade to the waistband of my underwear, then draws it along my waistline until he reaches the outside of my hip. He turns the blade flat and slips it between my skin and the fabric of the underwear. I keep myself perfectly still as Bellamy swiftly rotates the blade and pulls it away from my body, making a clean slice through the material. My breath hitches and I feel a shiver shoot through my body in response to the sharp sound of the knife slashing through the fabric. The cut is made with skillful precision, perfectly synchronized with the beat of the music coming from my speakers (making the effect that much more dramatic). He drags the edge of the knife along the front of my abdomen and makes his way to the outside of the other hip where he repeats the same process. I inhale sharply as my panties drop to the floor, no longer attached to my body.

Bellamy rises to a standing position and towers over me. He lays a kiss on my lips, which I return but with controlled enthusiasm – I’m acutely aware of the sharp instrument in his hands, and I don’t want him distracted. I’m not in the mood to give myself stitches tonight. Bellamy drags the blade’s edge along my torso, allowing the tip to graze my skin, traveling in an S-shape along my midline. I feel the cold edge of the blade trace the delicate contours of my cleavage until it reaches my right bra strap. He swiftly slices through it in a manner similar to the underwear. He returns the knife to my skin and slowly drags the blade across my chest to the left bra strap, which meets the same fate as its counterpart. He uses his free hand to pull the cups of my bra down, exposing my breasts to the cool room air.

As if to remind me exactly how _sharp_ the blade is, Bellamy drags it to the center of my chest, just over my manubrium, then draws it down between my breasts until he reaches the band of my bra. He carefully slips the knife between my skin and the bra band, then skillfully turns the sharp edge out, slicing effortlessly through the fabric of the bra. Every slice he makes is in perfect rhythm with the beat of the music. Only when the bra falls to the floor does he _finally_ remove the cold metal surface of the knife from my skin.

I let my arms relax and fall back to my sides as I shudder with the thrill of what just happened. _“Holy fuck.”_

He smirks as he sets the knife to the side, “Is that a good ‘holy fuck?’”

I nod, still a little dazed, “Oh yeah. That was so _intense_.” I look down at my torso, fascinatedly observing the blooms of flushed skin that arose after the edge of the blade passed over. I feel the edges of my lips quirk upwards slightly. “At first, I thought you were gonna go all ‘Zorro’ on me and disrobe me with a few quick slashes or something... But the _slow, purposeful_ pace – it was almost penetrating in its intensity… Which is a suitable adjective for a knife, I guess.”

While I’m speaking, Bellamy slips a hand between my legs and his fingers make their way into my folds. He sinks two fingers inside of me and my speech is cut off by the mortifying realization that I am _dripping_. I close my eyes and a shiver rushes through my body as I hear how tragically wet I am. Bellamy closes his eyes and drops his forehead to my shoulder. “ _So. Fucking. Wet._ ” I can tell he’s barely holding it together. I feel him nip at my collarbone as he chuckles against me, “ _Oh, Princess… Knife play turns you on…”_

My voice is appallingly breathless, “Is that right?” As if to prove his point, he removes his fingers from my pussy and slaps the hand (and its sopping wet fingers) onto my hip, the wet smacking sound a glaring indicator of exactly how _right_ he is. Bellamy glances behind me to the bed then back to me, like he’s trying to make up his mind about something. I have an idea of my own, so I speak up with a laugh, “You want to tie me, don’t you?” It’s more of a statement than a question, really.

He raises an eyebrow and broadens his stance, clearing his throat, “What was that, Princess?” _(Okay, Dom-Bellamy in play)_.

I stand at attention, correcting my tone, “Would you like to tie me, Sir?”

Bellamy smiles approvingly as he strokes my cheek with the back of his index finger. “That’s better, Princess.” He inspects me for a solid minute, causing me to squirm as if his gaze is physically prodding me. He comes to a decision and nods, “Yes. I’ll tie you. Spread Eagle.”

Bellamy goes to the closet and brings down our “toy box” (a benign-looking box located on a high shelf in my closet, out of reach of inquisitive seven-year olds). While he’s doing that, I un-tuck the under-mattress ties that Bellamy and I keep stored and ready to use for occasions such as this.

I’ve heard _Sail_ repeat at least once already, and it starts again. I’ll be honest, I’m _really_ looking forward to Bellamy fucking the hell out of me with this song in the background, but I’m curious, “How many times does this song repeat?”

He laughs, “This was supposedly a 24-minute “extended version” but apparently it just repeats the song several times.”

I smirk, “I’m not complaining. This is a _very_ fuck-able rhythm.”

He nods, “Agreed.”  

Bellamy pulls out some lovely black-colored rope and instructs me to sit in the middle of my bed. He cuffs my hands and ankles individually in single-column “cuffs” and attaches them to the under-mattress ties. I’m truly helpless now. In a big way. I’m spread completely open, firmly restrained and tied down. The hardest part of this position is the complete inability to cover myself or hide from his scrutiny in _any_ way.

He pauses, giving me a moment to adjust to the defenselessness. I nod for him to continue, curious as to what he has planned next. He picks the knife back up and my head starts swimming with anticipation. He brings the blade to my abdomen, which assumes a concave shape as the cold metal grazes the skin over my left obliques. He traces swirled patterns over the expanse of creamy abdominal flesh. I glance at Bellamy’s face and I can see he’s completely entranced by his activity… His playtime…

He draws the knife along outside my left breast, then underneath it, and around in a spiral pattern toward my nipple. Once he reaches my areola, he angles it down, pointing the tip into surface of my skin. He drags the tip of the knife _ever so lightly_ to the exact center of my nipple and I’m trying to keep my breaths even, attempting to keep my chest from heaving. The blade is lightly touching my skin as he rotates the tip over my nipple. After a moment of keeping the blade perfectly still, he applies slight pressure, pressing until he gets a reaction. I hear a strangled moan, and it takes a moment to realize it came from _me._ From this angle, he could stab the knife straight into my heart… My pulse pounds as I think about the fact that if the blade was plunged into me from there, it would probably impale my left ventricle and I would bleed out in a matter of seconds. I take myself through breathing exercises Bellamy taught me – in through my nose, out slowly through my mouth... The effect on my anxiety is immediate. As quickly as I worked myself up, I calm back down until I'm in the moment once again.

When he moves the knife away from my nipple, a relieved cry finally escapes me. He laughs darkly, looking pleased as he reverses the spiral from my left breast, then repeats the action all over again on my right breast – spiraling the blade’s edge around my breast, gradually angling it up along the way, so that by the time it contacts my nipple, the tip is angled down pointing into my skin. I can see the pounding of my heart under my ribcage, which _almost_ distracts me from the pointed knife tip threatening to impale my extremely sensitive erect nipple. The rush I feel from having to stay _so very still_ is _fucking incredible._ He presses in slightly, not deep enough to do any real damage, but certainly enough to scare the shit out of me. His eyes narrow and a sinister smile creeps across his face as I cry out. The air passing through my vocal cords forms a flustered whimper when the tip of the blade _finally_ abandons my nipple.

Bellamy sweeps a finger over my chest and pulls it up with a soft laugh to call attention to the sweat he’s gathered from my skin. “You’re _all_ worked up, aren’t you?” I feel my body shake as I nod my head, not speaking for fear of what my voice might sound like. He chuckles again, “Let’s see… where _else_ might you be _soaked?”_ My throat squeaks without my permission as he draws the blade down my abdomen, carefully tracing my midline until he gets to my pubic mound. I shudder and a shriek escapes me when he slowly begins to drag the tip of the knife over my labia.

“Shhhh, Princess, I got you.”

I nod, trying to even out my breaths again, and trying even harder not to finch. I squeeze my eyes hut while he draws circles around my pussy. As the sharp metal creeps increasingly closer to my clit, my breaths come in pants. I feel the edge of the blade graze upwards along my slit, then the movement ceases just below my throbbing clit. My voice sobs, “ _Ohgodohgodohgod...”_ I open my eyes when I feel that the knife is no longer touching my skin. I’m greeted with the image of Bellamy holding the knife up for me to see. It's glistening where Bellamy gathered up my fluids on the edge of blade.

“Princess… you’re so fucking _wet.”_ He licks some of my juices off the knife in his hands. I release a shuddering breath as my entire body shivers. He smirks and brings the blade to my lips, “Taste yourself, sweetheart.” I obediently stick my tongue out, touching it to the metal to taste the fluids. “Can you taste your fear, Princess?” I lick my lips and nod, because I fucking _can._ It’s probably psychological, but holy fuck… He laughs, “It tastes so fucking _good_.” I shiver at the dark tone in his voice, “ _Does it frighten you that I’m so turned on by your fear?”_

I’m panting as I nod carefully, “Does it turn you on more when you know my answer is yes?”

He has an unsettling smirk, “Always a smart one, Princess…” The blade returns to my skin and he drags a zig-zag pattern over my labia, crossing over my slit. As he gets close to my clit I shriek again and I hear Bellamy’s sinister laugh. I really shouldn’t be so turned on when I hear such an ominous sound coming from him, but goddammit I am… I lift my head up so I can see what he’s doing and he catches me looking, “Princess, I think fear turns _you_ on just as much…”

I drop my head back to the mattress and all I can mutter is “ _Oh…_ ” I’m annoyed at how pathetically breathless I am.

“Don’t believe me?” He moves the knife away from me and plunges his fingers in, and I wince when I can hear the wet sound of his fingers moving inside of me. I’m even more mortified when I feel the displaced wetness drip between my ass cheeks. I groan in response. He bends down and bites lightly on my hip bone, “Princess, as much as I’d like to keep teasing you, I want to fuck the shit out of you right now.”

I laugh, “Please, _please_ … _Do it!”_

He chuckles, “Do what? Tell me what you want me to do, Princess... And you _will_ address me with respect.” I feel a sharp pain on my inner thigh and I scream out in unmistakable fear that he cut me. He strokes my thigh, “ _Shhhh, Shhhhhh_ , I didn’t cut you.” I feel tears fall out of my eyes and I nod my head. He points over near my hand, where the knife is already folded up. I remember now that he had set it there when he was plunging his fingers inside of me.

I nod, trying to blink tears out of my eyes, “Okay.” I suddenly start crying, “I just- for a second, I thought…”

He strokes my cheeks, wiping the tears away, “Clarke, I made a promise that I wouldn’t cut you. I meant it.”

I sniff back the tears and my crying stops, “Okay.”  

His face still looks concerned. “Now take some deep breaths for me and relax. You’re pulling really hard at your restraints and I’m worried you’re going to hurt yourself.”

I do as he asks, breathing in deeply, exhaling slowly. I visualize the tension leaving me, escaping through the tips of my fingers and toes. I feel him softly stroke his hand up and down my leg for a little while, then down to my ankle. He unfastens the bindings from my ankle cuffs and I feel a conflicting sense of both relief and panic at the sudden and unexpected freedom. My legs begin to shake and Bellamy must pick up on what’s going on because he gently grips down on both of my calves.

“Better?” He maintains a firm but gentle hold on my legs until I nod my head. He slowly releases them and reaches up to my arms to do the same thing, this time with a warning that he’s disengaging the restraints. The cuffs are still tied on, but they’re no longer connected to the under-mattress ropes. He moves to untie the cuffs but I stop him.

“No, leave them. I want to feel them on me.” He nods with a smirk and my whole body feels like it’s on _fire_ with needfor him. Bellamy crawls over my body with a feral look in his eyes that I know is reflected in my own. My pulse races as he brushes his lips over my thundering heart. As a physician, I’m slightly alarmed by the fact that I can _see_ my wild heartbeat pounding through my ribcage. As his lips tenderly brush my skin, his fingers wander delicately over my body. I close my eyes and allow myself to be consumed by Bellamy’s insatiable hunger.

My own arms now rest slack against the mattress, my elbows bent so my fingers are near my face. I feel something lightly brush my lips and I quickly realize my own fingers have made their way to my mouth of their own accord. I bite lightly on a fingernail as my other nails rake across my lips. My fingers are pushed away as I feel Bellamy’s lips crush against mine as he envelops me in a kiss that consumes me with such ferocity that I'm left breathless.  As he pulls away, my chest heaves as I gasp for air.

I feel his rock-hard cock brush against my thigh, and I’m overwhelmed by a voracious _need_ for him. With a wanton groan, I beg, _“Please_.” I open my eyes and I’m struck by the intensity of his gaze. I’m lost. There’s nothing that exists beyond this moment with this man...

With one arm, he anchors himself on the headboard, and I know this is about to get intense. With his other hand, he lines himself up with my entrance. Then with one powerful thrust, he sheaths his cock completely inside of me. Giving me only a few seconds to adjust, he pulls back out slowly. The empty feeling left when his cock is pulled out lasts only a moment before he thrusts _hard_ back in. I wrap my legs around his hips as he pulls back out, digging my heels into his unfairly toned ass as he thrusts back into me. He repeats the motion – pulling out slowly, thrusting in fast and hard – over and over again as my mind descends farther into his torrential presence.

 _“Wanna fuck you deeper…”_ I nod, scraping my nails into his back as he pulls a leg higher up on his back, opening me up wider. He plunges into me and the depth has me seeing stars as my eyes roll back in - head. _“I wanna fuck you harder…_ ” I release a grateful moan as he snaps his hips with even greater force than before. I reach an arm above me, and push against the headboard as I meet Bellamy thrust-for-thrust.

Bellamy opens me even wider by hooking his arm underneath my knee and pushing it up into my chest. The new angle has his cock relentlessly hitting that wonderful spot inside of me. My attempts to speed him up are futile.

He shakes his head with a smug smirk, "Nu uh, Princess... We're doing this at my pace."  His slow, deliberate rhythm is matched to the pseudo-dubstep rhythms of the music around us. Our chests heave in time with the pizzicato string synths. I give in with the knowledge that I’m really just along for the ride here. Our fingers meet on the headboard and intertwine, our grip matching the intensity of our gaze. I moan as that thrilling pressure begins to coil deep and low in my abdomen.

I can’t suppress the ecstatic cries that escape me, “ _Oh, god… I’m-“_

He growls in my ear, _“No… not yet.”_ His lips latch onto an achingly sensitive spot below my ear.

I cry out in blissful frustration, _“Please!”_ Bellamy shakes his head against my skin, but in a show of mercy, he slows down and I’m able to take a deep breath as the threat of orgasm wanes. As quickly as the relief comes, it’s gone again as he drives into me with aggressive force. He’s still fucking me at a maddeningly slow and controlled pace, but now, every time he thrusts in, he grinds his pubic bone into my clit, which sends shocks of electric pleasure from my core straight to my fingertips.

“You’re being so good, Princess.” I whimper in frustration that he’s pulling out all the stops and it’s driving me up the fucking wall. The intensity of the pleasure is continuing to build, and I’m about to come with or without his permission. He can feel it, because he tells me again, “ _I said, no.”_ He slows it down again, lessening the stimulation, bringing me back from the edge. It’s a push-and-pull, a perpetual building then waning of near-climax. I’m close to sobbing in frustration until he pulls out and flips me over, gripping my hips and pulling me onto my hands and knees. He enters me slowly _(thank god)_ , and pushes in and out a few times before plunging in and staying there.

I’m confused and frustrated by his stillness. I grind out between my teeth, _“What?”_

He grips harder on my hips, “ _Fucking hold on.”_

I bark out a laugh at his clearly weakening control over himself, “Not so fun, is it?” I wiggle my hips to torture him a little bit and he slaps my ass _hard_. I would love to be offended, but it felt fucking wonderful. I feel my cunt clench around him in response to the slap and he hisses as his hips thrust forward, sheathing him even deeper inside of me. I’m pretty sure his hip thrust was as involuntary as the tightening of my inner walls around him when he smacked me. I laugh again, amused by how annoyed he is.

He clears his throat, “Careful, Princess. I can have you suck my cock instead and leave you the rest of the night without coming.”

I shake my head and sputter out an apology, “No! Please! I’m sorry!”

His tone is ominous, “Then behave.”

I nod frantically, “Yes, sir. I’ll be good.”

I can hear the smirk in his voice, “You’ll be a good girl?”

I moan, _“Fuck… Yes, Sir.”_ I swear to god, I could come just listening to him telling me what a good girl I am… It’s such a pathetic kink.

He smacks my ass again, “Good girl.” He’s clearly regained control, because he’s no longer huffing in frustration every time my pussy clenches around his cock (which is happening like, double time with all the ass-slapping and encouragements). He slides a hand firmly along my spine, and I arch my back and thrust my ass into him. When he gets to my neck, he wraps his hand around the front, squeezing lightly. Not enough to fully obstruct my airway, but definitely a deliberate squeeze. My breath hitches at the implication. My mind is reeling at the concept of asphyxiation. Now I really, really want to try it, but we haven’t talked about it. He wraps his other arm under my chest, resting his hand just underneath my breasts. He pulls me up to a kneeling position, my back flush against his chest. His other hand is still wrapped around my neck and he gives it a gentle squeeze, but again makes no move to cut off my airway.

I sigh when he removes his hand from my neck, though I’m not sure if it's in relief or discontent. He reaches down between my legs, lightly stroking at my clit a few times before he wraps a hand behind my thigh and pulls it out in front of me. “Bend your leg and anchor your foot on the bed for me.” I nod and comply, and Bellamy’s leg takes up a similar position behind mine. He thrusts up into me now, his cock hitting me _deep._ He brushes his hands up my sides, catching my arms. He guides my left arm so that it’s reaching up and behind me, wrapped behind his neck. I turn my head and his lips meet mine, drawing me into a deep kiss. I love kissing him while he’s inside of me, and I let him know it with my hungry moans. With his right hand, he holds on to my wrist, guiding it so my hand is on my right breast.

He breaks the kiss to tell me, “Play with your tits, Princess.” I nod, kneading the soft flesh and pinching at my nipple. He uses his other hand to mimic my actions on my other breast. His right hand snakes between my legs, where he pinches my clit painfully. Unfortunately, _painful_ is a step away from _blissful_ for me, and with the lack of warning, I’m unable to control the orgasm that crashes over me. The waves of pleasure come thundering through me, and I feel myself collapsing forward. Bellamy’s left hand abandons its treatments on my breast and wraps around my torso to catch me before I actually fall.

I snap out of my haze, realizing I didn’t have his permission to come. I start to cry, “ _I’m sorry, I’m sorry I’m sorry, I didn’t know-“_

He gently kisses my neck, “Shhhh, it’s okay, just _feel_ it, Princess.”

I sob in relief as I nod and let myself get lost in the cloud of bliss that surrounds me as Bellamy continues to thrust into me, fucking me through my orgasm. As I come down from the high, I turn my head and he catches my lips in another searing kiss. It’s an awkward angle, so we don’t kiss for a _long_ time, but we make every second of contact count. I moan, realizing he’s _still_ hard inside of me. He’s not done with me yet and I’m throbbing with want.

“You ready to come again, Princess?”

I nod frantically, “Oh, _god… Y-yes.”_

He shakes his head, whispering into my skin, “I want to hear you _beg_ for it.”

I whimper, “ _Please?”_

He laughs, “That was kind of pathetic.” Then he laughs harder, and I’m not sure why… “Fuck, Princess. Your cunt clenched harder around me when I called you pathetic…”  _Oh, that's why..._

I groan, “ _Please!_ Please can I come?”

He shakes his head, “Still not good enough. Try again.”

I huff, “What, you want me to beg you like a fucking _slut?”_

I feel him grin against my neck, “ _You know I fucking do…”_ I can definitely oblige him here.

I moan, “Please, PLEASE, let me come... I want to come all over your cock... I’m your little slut, and I want you to feel me coming all around you!”

He growls, _“More…”_

“I want you to fill me up with your come, Sir… Fuck your slut! _PLEASE!_ Goddammit, I want to come so bad… But it’s more…”

“Tell me… What is it?”

“I want you to come with me. I want you to come inside of me while I’m coming around you… I _need_ to feel you come inside of me…”

His only response is a shaky growl, so I continue, _“Please_ , come inside of your slut, Sir!”

He huffs against my skin, _“Then come for me.”_ He bites down at the juncture between my neck and shoulder, which nearly does me in. But _then_ he lets go of my clit, which until now, I had actually forgotten he was still pinching. The blood rushing back into the bundle of nerves is so intensely pleasurable that I can’t even get my voice to work. My mouth just opens in a silent scream as my body reverberates, pulsating with ecstasy.  I can hear my heartbeat in my ears, like waves crashing through me as I collapse against his chest. I register that Bellamy has stilled behind me, his arms locked _tight_ around my body as he breathes heavily against my shoulder. I feel the sweat of our bodies mixing, the surfaces of our skin slippery against each other. He pulls me down with him as he sits back on his heel and our right legs extend straight out in front of us.

He squeezes me and tells me, “I want to see you.” He gently pushes me up and off of him and I feel a sad emptiness as he slides out of me. He scoots up out of the bed, extending his legs in front of him and pulls me onto him, straddling his lap. Bellamy pulls me close and drops his head into the crook of my neck. A slower, sweeter song comes on and we remain tangled together as our hearts and breaths return to a normal rate.

I’m emotionally exhausted. In the span of a few hours, I’ve gone from planning a breakup speech to reaffirming my love for this man. I cup his face with my hands and pull his head away so I can see his eyes. I trail my fingers down his neck and over his shoulders, eliciting a shiver from him. I feel my heart racing again as I search his face for readiness for the conversation I need to have with him. I’m enveloped in his love, and I know we’re on the same page. But I need him to hear it.

I take a deep breath, “Bellamy, I love you. You know that.”

“I love you, Clarke. More than anything, I swear.”

“You need to know, if you ever cheat on me, I swear to god, we’re done. I won’t take it. Not after Finn.”

He nods, looking regretful, “Clarke, the shit you saw with Echo, it-“

I cut him off, shaking my head, “I know, Bell. That’s not what I’m talking about. I need this to be clear, though. We are not in an open relationship. If you go stepping out on me, you’ll fucking regret it. That’s my line, the line you can’t un-cross. We can work through a lot, but not that.”

He cups my face between his hands, “Clarke, only _you_ have me. Only you will _ever_ have me.” His eyes are piercing into mine, “Clarke…” I know what he needs to hear, too.

“Bellamy, there’s _never_ been anyone else for me. No one else will ever have me like you do.”

He leans his forehead against mine, closing his eyes, brushing his thumbs over my cheekbones. He kisses my bottom lip, then my top lip. Tears I didn’t know were falling begin to pool where his fingers are holding my face. He kisses them away as I bring my hands to grasp his wrists, holding them still, as if to emphasize my next words. “Bellamy, I’m _yours._ My heart is _yours_.” My voice is a choked whisper, “Please, _please_ don’t break it.”

Bellamy shakes his head gently, continuing to kiss my tears off my face. “I never want to hurt you, Clarke.” I nod, biting my lip. He kisses my lips again, using his tongue to soothe the lip I was biting. “I love you, Clarke. I fucking mean it.” I nod again, “You’re _it_ for me, okay?”

I try in vain to sniff back the tears. I nod almost frantically, “I know, Bell. You’re it for me, too.”  

He takes a deep breath, “I will never cross _that_ line, I promise. I’ll fuck up other ways, I’m sure. We both know I’m a stubborn asshole about a lot of shit. We’re gonna fight. I’m gonna fuck up.”

I nod with a shaky laugh, “So will I.”

Bellamy searches my face, “But promise me. _Promise_ me you won’t give up.”

I nod, “I promise, Bell.”

“Because, I fucking swear to you Clarke, I won’t give up on us.” He cards his fingers through my hair, cupping the back of my skull and holding my forehead to his.

“I won’t give up.”

* * *

 

We stay in each other’s embrace for a long time. Several songs play while we are just holding each other like this. He runs his fingers up and down my spine, placing slow open-mouth kisses along the exposed skin of my shoulder and neck. I’ve looped my arms around his shoulders, leaning lazily into him. We’re eventually laying back down again. He sits up and unties the remainder of my “cuffs” from my wrists and ankles. I had almost forgotten they were there. Afterwards, he positions himself behind me and pulls me into him. I feel him curl himself around me, tangling our legs together.

“Bellamy?”

“Mmm hmm?”

“Just so you know, if that bitch shows her face around here, she’ll be sorry.”

He huffs a laugh, “I won’t stop you, Princess.”

“Good. Like, seriously, I’ll fuck her shit up.”

He nods, “I have no doubt.”

“Like, I only got a glimpse of her, but she’s skinny. I think I could take her.”

He laughs, “You definitely could.”

I huff, “I hate her.”

“Me too.”

I nod, “Good.” After a few minutes, I ask a question that’s been plaguing me since this whole thing started. “Bell, was she as good as me? You know, back when you guys were, like, together?”

He lifts his head up, then tilts my chin around so I’m looking at him. “Clarke, there is absolutely no comparison.”

I furrow my eyebrows, “Clarify, please?”

He smiles down at me, “You blow everyone out of the fucking water.”

I nod back at him, “Damn straight.”

He smirks, “Let’s go to sleep, Princess.”

“Good night, Bell.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **KINK PSA** For fuck’s sake, don’t play with knives at home, kids… It can be kinky, and really intense, but also really fucking dangerous. I can’t really give guidelines or instructions on how to do knife play “safely” because there is no such thing as “safe” knife play.
> 
> Also, there were allusions to breath play. Bellamy and Clarke will have a discussion about this before it actually happens, IF it happens. It's edge play, and like knife play, it can be dangerous as hell. I know of only one bdsm practitioner who will actually partake in breath play. It comes with extensive medical risks and possible devastating consequences if things went wrong, and I'm on the fence hen it comes to incorporating it into this story. We'll see...
> 
> REVIEWS get me going!!! Kudos make me smile! 
> 
> Thank you all for reading!


	32. mom, i have some questions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex has questions about the Court documents she found...
> 
> [Flashbacks]

[CLARKE POV]

I come downstairs to see Alex and Bellamy sitting at the kitchen table. Alex has a pile of files to her side. I recognize them from my file cabinet – they’re from the custody case. I shoot a look at Bellamy who shrugs his shoulders.

Alex looks between us, and before I can ask what’s going on, she speaks up, “Mom, I have some questions. Can you sit down?” She points at the seat across from her, next to Bellamy. I cock my head to the side as I make my way to the seat.

Once I’m seated, I pull the files over so that they’re in front of me. “Where did you get these, Alex?”

“The file cabinet. I was looking for something else but this distracted me.”

“Well, the file cabinet is where they belong. I would ask why you took them out, but that’s probably why we’re sitting here, isn’t it?”

She nods, “Yes.”

I sigh, “I’ll spare you the lecture on how you shouldn’t be going through this shit, because it’s obviously too late.” I frown at Bellamy, “Did you have anything to do with this?”

Before he can answer me, Alex interjects, “No, mom. I actually asked him about it first, and he said that I needed to ask you.”

I give Bellamy an approving look, “That was a good answer. Thank you, Bell.” He shrugs his shoulders, giving himself a mental pat on the back, I’m sure.

Alex continues, “I wanted him here because maybe he’d remember things you forgot.”

I smirk, “Perhaps he can be helpful.” He grins, looking proud of himself for not fucking up. “Alright, Alex. What do you want to know?”

She drags the pile of papers back to her side of the table and pulls out a document that she has already flagged with a sticky note.

She purses her lips as she slides a packet of papers to me, “What was this?”

* * *

 

_Flashback: Late Summer 2010_

_It’s my first day off in weeks, and instead of having some much-needed bonding time with my two-year old daughter, I’m reading through a court document served on me this afternoon. The words seem foreign and none of it makes any sense. “_ MOTION TO RESTRICT PARENTING TIME.” _What the fuck? I’m reading through the document, and it’s throwing me for a loop…_

  1. Nathaniel Findlay, III (Petitioner Father) by and through his Attorneys of record (Findlay, Kane & Associates) respectfully asks that the Court restrict the Parenting Time and Decision Making responsibilities of Clarke Griffin (Co-Petitioner Mother) regarding the minor child Alexandra Griffin-Findlay:
  2. It is believed that the Co-Petitioner has plans to remove the minor child from the country. Co-petitioner did not consult Petitioner regarding removal of any kind (from the city, the state, or the country). Furthermore, Petitioner does not consent to removal of the minor child from the country.
  3. Given the minor child’s young age (two years), it is in the best interest of the minor child to ensure that the minor child has access to both parents. Removal of child from the vicinity of the father precludes necessary access for the child’s emotional well-being.
  4. If Co-Petitioner Mother wishes to entertain the idea of moving with the minor child, she may submit a motion to do so through the Court, to which Petitioner Father will respond.
  5. The Mother’s disregard for the Father’s right to have access to the minor child indicates an inability to effectively communicate. This may, in the future, lead to placing the child in dangerous situations.
  6. The Mother’s disregard for the Court’s orders in regards to Decision Making and physical custody of the minor child raises concerns that she will continue to flout the Court’s orders, which could be a detriment to the minor child.



_And it keeps going…_

_I have to call Nate. Shaking, I dial his number. He doesn’t pick up so I call again. This time, he answers, and he sounds pissed._

_“Nate, what the fuck is this?”_

_He sighs, “Really, Clarke? You’re going to pretend you have no idea what it’s about?”_

_I try to control the volume of my voice, but I’m already yelling, “There’s no pretending Nate! What the FUCK makes you think I want to take Alex away? When have I EVER said anything like that?”_

_He yells back, “Clarke, you’re so full of shit. I can’t be talking to you about this. If you have something to say, talk to my attorneys.”_

_He hangs up on me. My next call is Bellamy, who picks up immediately._

_I feel the room closing in on me and my breathing becomes erratic. I manage to vocalize, “Bellamy, I need you here. Now.”_

_“I’m on my way.”_

_My ability to verbalize my thoughts is becoming increasingly impaired, so I send Lexa a text message:_

_**Need you. Now.** _  
_**Can’t talk.** _  
_**Please come over.** _

_I’m in tears, and poor Alex must be so confused. She’s touching my face with her tiny little hands, trying to make me smile. “Mommy cry?” I nod while attempting to smile. I’m trying to keep it together for the sake of my kid, and I’m failing miserably._

_Finally, Bellamy comes barging in my front door. I’m having a full-blown panic attack, shaking on the living room floor with a squirming Alex in my lap. Bellamy sits down on the floor next to me and holds out his arms for Alex, who happily lets him embrace her. He holds her to his side as scoots to sit behind me, caging me between his legs. I curl into him so my right side is hugged to his chest. He strokes my hair soothingly while I lean against his chest, whispering, “It’s okay Clarke… Listen to my heartbeat. Do you hear it?” I nod and close my eyes and let him press my head to his chest so my ear is over his heart. I hear his steady beat and it grounds me. “Do you feel me breathing?” I nod. “Good. Listen to my heartbeat. Feel me breathing.” I nod again. “Breathe with me, Clarke.” I follow his directions. As I calm down, I feel him rubbing circles into my arms and along my back. He keeps talking to me, “I’ve got you, Clarke. I’ve got you. You’re safe…” I let his calming presence guide me back to a state of peace._

_I feel Alex’s fingers running through my hair as she leans on me and leaves playful kisses all over me. “Mommy happy?”_

_I nod and smile tiredly as I look into her eyes, “Yeah, baby girl. Mommy’s doing better.”_

_She giggles, “I love you, mommy.”_

_I pull her into my arms, kissing the top of her head, “I love you, baby girl. So much.”_

_We sit for a minute in comfortable silence. Bellamy holding both of us in his arms._

_“Can you tell me what’s going on, Clarke?”_

_I nod, handing him the packet of papers served on me. “This is what’s going on. I have no fucking idea what’s happening.” While Bellamy reads through it, Alex sits in my lap while I read her some books. Lexa comes storming in as Bellamy finishes the last page of the document._

_Lexa is frowning and looks somewhat panicked. “I’m here. What’s going on?”_

_Bellamy sighs and hands her the paperwork. “This is what’s going on.” He looks back over at me, “Where the hell does he get off saying something like that?”_

_Lexa, a speed reader, flies through the packet. Her glare is calculated, “They have no right to do this. No basis for this. Do they? Did you tell them something like this?”_

_I shake my head furiously, “No fucking way! I would never say something like that. I wouldn’t take Alex from Nate. I thought he knew that.”_

_Lexa huffs, ‘Well, it looks like he’s trying to take her from you. I warned you they would do this.”_

_Alex interjects, “Daddy?”_

_Lexa barks out, “Daddy? More like ‘Asshole.’”_

_Bellamy pipes up angrily, “Lexa, you can’t say shit like that about her dad, especially not around her.”_

_Lexa rolls her eyes and spits back at him, “That’s rich, coming from someone whose own father walked out on him.”_

_Bellamy is shooting daggers at Lexa, “Go fuck yourself, Lexa. You have no idea what you’re talking about, so keep your fucking mouth shut.”_

_I yell at both of them, “BOTH of you, shut the fuck up!"  I glare at Lexa first, "Lexa, he’s right. You can’t say shit like that in front of Alex. And stop being a bitch to Bellamy."  I face Bell and give him a pointed stare, "Bellamy, stop taking the bait.” Both of them resort to glaring at each other but they don’t say anything else. “Both of you go sit at the table and don’t say a goddamn word to each other. I’ll be there in a second.” I hate dealing with the two of them together. I shouldn’t have asked them both to come. I’m a parent to an actual child, I don’t have time to deal with these two when they’re acting like children, too._

_I hand Alex a board book and sit her down across the living room (with a pile of other books) while I direct Lexa and Bellamy to the table in the little dining nook so that I can separate their conflict from Alex while still being able to keep an eye on her. “Here, baby. Read these for a little while. Mommy is going to be right at the table talking to Bell and Lexa, okay?” She smiles and plops right down, flipping through the pages and running her little fingers along each picture._

_I return to the table, where Lexa and Bellamy are sitting across from each other, still shooting daggers. I sit down at a seat between them. “Now, can I trust you two to act like fucking adults? Or do I need to deal with this on my own? Because I do NOT have the time or energy to mediate your bullshit.” They both nod and sigh, agreeing to set their issues aside for the moment._

_Bellamy breaks the silence, “You need an attorney, Clarke. I’ve been telling you this from the beginning.” Lexa rolls her eyes in clear disagreement. Her advice from the beginning was to forego an attorney._

_I put my head in my hands, “I fucking know, Bell. But where am I going to get the money for that? The cheapest family law attorney I can find wants a $4000 retainer just to start looking at my case. My trust fund is tied up right now and I don’t have that kind of money just floating around.”_

_Lexa interjects, “I say keep doing what you’ve been doing. You know the court sees you as more sympathetic because you’re a single mom who doesn’t have an attorney. Nate looks like a bully because he’s got an entire legal team attacking you.”_

_I shake my head, “Yeah, Lexa, you’ve said that from the beginning. I don’t know how much longer that strategy is going to hold up, especially after THIS.” I shake the papers in my hand, trying to emphasize the seriousness of the situation._

_Lexa speaks softly, “I have to ask Clarke, Is this founded at all? Where could he have gotten this idea in his head?”_

_I shake my head, “I don’t know. I don’t think I’ve ever said anything like this. I thought he would know better than to think I was trying to get rid of him.”_

_Lexa snorts, “Well, you should get rid of him. This is just further proof – he’s trying to get you out of the picture. He’s undermining your credibility as a parent by making things up and submitting them to the court. Assuming he’s making it up, of course.”_

_Bellamy rubs his hands over his face, “Clarke, I know you don’t want Nate out of the picture. I don’t know where he’s getting this idea. We’ve got to figure out a way to get you some legal representation.”_

_I roll my eyes, “I KNOW, okay? But like I said, I don’t have that kind of money. I’m not earning enough as a doctor, yet. I’m only at a PGY-3 pay level, which is not much. My savings isn’t sufficient for this. Not to mention, the $4000 retainer is just the beginning. This kind of thing can cost tens of thousands of dollars. I don’t have that kind of money to throw around!”_

_Bellamy’s voice gets quiet, “Well, I know of one place.”_

_Lexa interjects, “Tell me you’re not suggesting what I think you’re suggesting, Bellamy.” He rolls his eyes but Lexa keeps going, “You can’t possibly think it’s fair for Clarke to subject herself to Abby. You’re asking her to basically sell her soul…”_

_I pipe up, “Guys, you both know my mom is not an option. Not after this much time has passed. I’ll figure something out, but Bellamy’s right. I need to get a lawyer. Maybe I can see if I can qualify for some sort of legal aid or something.”_

_Lexa nods and her phone chimes. “I have to get back. Call me later, Clarke. We’ll talk about this.”_

_Bellamy rolls his eyes again while I walk Lexa to the door. She pulls me into a hug, which is a strong gesture for her. It’s not often she breaks her stoic character, but she must understand that I’m going through some shit right now._

_I close the door behind her and lean against it for a few minutes, trying to sort out my thoughts. I make my way back to the table where Bellamy is sitting and I break down in tears, “Bellamy, I want my mom.”_

_He rubs my back, “I know, Clarke.”_

_“I shouldn’t have kept this from her... It feels like it’s too late. She’ll hate me if she finds out about Alex.”_

_“Clarke, she won’t hate you. Despite whatever shit you guys have gone through, she’s still your mom. You’re still her daughter. Do you really think it’s impossible to work things out?”_

_I feel tears coming back. “Fuck, I don’t know, Bell. I’ve been angry with her for so long. I don’t remember the last time I felt like I even_ had _a mother. She’d hate me for this. For keeping Alex from her.”_

_He keeps rubbing my back, and I’m immensely grateful for its soothing effect. “I don’t think she would, Clarke. Yeah, maybe she’d be hurt that you didn’t tell her before, but I don’t think she’d hate you. I think she’d want to get to know Alex.”_

_“I don’t know, Bell. I want to call her… I’ve wanted to call her for the last three years, but I can’t get past this fear that she’ll hurt me somehow.” I rest my forehead on my palms. “And now, in this situation, she’d think I’m only contacting her because I want money.”_

_He shrugs, “I don’t think she’d care, Clarke. I think that if she knew what was at stake, she wouldn’t care what your intentions were. She’d want to make sure Alex was safe.”_

_“I know. You’re right. It’s just hard. I’m scared of finding out exactly how much I’ve hurt her. You know?”_

_He shrugs, “Yeah, I get it… It’s up to you, Clarke. Really. Nobody can make you call her.” He laughs, “Nobody can_ make _you do anything. Whatever you decide, Clarke, I’ll support you. You know that.”_

_I smile, “I do know that. Thank you, Bell.”_

_Alex comes toddling to us, book in hand, reaching up to Bellamy so that he’ll pick her up. She settles into his lap and listens attentively while he reads to her. I am so grateful that I have Bellamy. I know he’s right about my mom. I know I need her, and I know I have to talk to her. I really hate the idea of telling her this over the phone, but she’s across the country from me, so it’s not like I can just schedule lunch to tell her in person. I’m just fucking terrified of making that phone call…_

* * *

 

_I’ve gotten unending grief from Lexa about contacting my mom. Her concerns have had me going back-and-forth with this decision, but Bellamy’s logic has won out. I’m not even sure if the number I have is valid any more._

_The line rings a few times before someone picks up. It’s my mom. I’m surprised she picked up her own phone. I usually have to go through the front desk first. Maybe I dialed her cell phone instead of her work line…_

_“Hello?”_

_I clear my throat, “Mom?”_

_“Clarke?”_

_“Yeah, it’s me.”_

_“Clarke… Wow. It’s good to hear your voice.”_

_“Um, yours, too… How are you?” (How the hell am I supposed to start this conversation? Why didn’t I rehearse this?)_

_“I’m alright. I’m alright. Busy like always. How are you?” She sounds about as awkward and lost as I do, which is strangely comforting._

_“Um, I’m okay. Kind of. It’s been a while.”_

_“Yeah. It has… Years.” I feel a stab of guilt, knowing it’s me who cut her off. I hear her sniff like she’s crying, and that’s all it takes for me to break down._

_I can’t hide the tears in my voice, “I need you, mom.”_

_“Clarke, honey. Talk to me. What’s going on?”_

_"Mom… I don’t even know where to start.”_

_She takes a deep breath, “Okay, how about you start with where you are.”_

_“Denver. I’m still in Denver.”_

_“Oh, wow. I was there a few months ago. I wasn’t sure if you were still there after med school.”_

_“Yeah, um, I got matched at a hospital here. I’m starting my third year of residency.”_

_“That’s great, Clarke. What in?”_

_“Obstetrics… Well, OB/GYN.” She’s crying now, which isn’t helping my own waterworks… “Mom, um, I have something to tell you.”_

_“I’m listening, Clarke.”_

_I break down in tears again. I really wish I’d had Bellamy sit with me. “Um. I had a baby.”_

_“Oh my god, Clarke... A baby.” She’s laughing and crying at the same time now, and I’m not sure if it’s a good thing or a bad thing. “I had no idea you were even pregnant.”_

_“Yeah, um… I was. Her name is Alex. Well, Alexandra, but she goes by Alex.”_

_“Alex… God, Clarke.” She’s sniffing back tears like I am. “You’re a mother.”_

_I nod, “Yeah. I am. She’s a great kid.”_

_“Kid? How old is she?”_

_“She turned two this spring. She was actually a leap-day baby…” I pause for a minute, hearing my mom still sniffling on the other end while trying to control my own tears. “I want you to meet her, mom. She doesn’t have much family. Not on our side, anyway. Obviously.”_

_“I want to meet her too. I want to see you, Clarke.”_

_“I miss you, mom.”_

_“I do, too. Clarke, sweetheart. I wish you had called earlier. God, I feel like we’ve missed out on a lot.”_

_“I know. Me, too. I know you’re angry.”_

_She barks a laugh, “Angry? Clarke, you just told me I have a granddaughter. I’m too happy to be angry right now.”_

_“Do you think you have room in your schedule to come here and meet her? We can catch up in person?”_

_“Tell me when and where. I’ll be there.”_

* * *

_I haven’t seen my mom in years, and back then, those interactions were tense. I’m so nervous I’m almost shaking. Bellamy offered to come with me, but I told him I needed to do this alone this time. Now I’m kind of regretting that. Alex toddles along with me while we make our way into the lobby of the hotel where my mom is staying. I text her to let her know we’re here and she replies that she’ll be down shortly. As Alex and I sit in the lobby, she babbles on about colors and shapes she sees in the objects around us._

_She holds her arms open, asking me to pick her up. I lift her into my arms, tickling her as I pop her onto my hip. Her laughs lighten the weight in my heart. She pinches at my nose, “Mama!”_

_I nod, “Are you excited to meet Grandma Abby?”_

_Alex smiles, “Grabby?”_

_I scrunch my nose animatedly, “Hmmm, how about we don’t call her that… How about nana?”_

_“Nana!” Alex seems to like the name. Hopefully my mom agrees._

_I smile and pinch her nose, “Nana it is, then.” She squirms to be put down again, seeing another child entering the lobby. “No, baby. We’re waiting for nana, okay?”_

_She huffs, crossing her chubby little arms over her chest. A few moments later, the elevator ‘dings’ and my heart starts racing. I’m shaking with nerves. I feel like what I’ve done is unforgivable – not telling my mom about the existence of her granddaughter for so long. I’ve convinced myself for so many years that she’d be furious with me… I could just add it to the long list of terrible, inexcusable things I’ve done as her daughter. Her reaction on the phone filled me with an incredible hope that perhaps we can work on things._

_I set Alex down and crouch down on one knee to straighten out her ridiculously fluffy and sparkly tutu dress. Alex picked her own outfit today, as usual. I tried to get the kid to like neutral colors like green and yellow, but no… she’s all about the sparkles, and tulle, and bright colors. I figure it matches her bright personality, so it works for her. As my mom steps off the elevator, I look up and meet her gaze. Her hands cover her mouth as she makes her way towards us and I stand back up on my feet. I see tears welled up behind her eyes, and I find my own are watering as well. The gift bag that she’s holding falls to the floor as we grip each other in a tight embrace. I allow myself to feel the comfort of my mom’s arms around me, closing my eyes and feeling the displaced tears fall down my cheeks. I feel her stroking the back of my head in a specific rhythmic pattern and it strikes me that I use the exact same pattern when I’m comforting Alex – stroke, stroke, pat-pat, stroke, stroke, pat-pat. When we finally pull away, it’s because Alex is diving into the gift bag that fell on the floor, understanding that anything in packaging that bright must definitely be for her._

_My mom glances down toward Alex and I nod my head. Both of us kneeling down to her level, I take Alex’s hand in mine, “Hey, sweetie. I want you to meet someone, okay?”_

_Alex puts the gift bag down and gives us a big grin, “’Kay.”_

_“This is my mommy, Abby. Do you remember I told you we were going to meet her?”_

_Alex nods, “Grabby!”_

_I burst into laughter, “I’m sorry mom – I told her you were ‘grandma Abby,’ and she’s shortened it to ‘Grabby’” My mom starts laughing harder than I’ve seen her laugh in a long time, then Alex joins in. I look over at my mom again, and she’s burst into tears._

_“Mom?”_

_She sniffs back tears, and Alex toddles to be in front of her, parking herself in between my mom’s legs. She tilts her head and puts her small hands on my mom’s cheeks, wiping her little fingers in my mom’s tears. “You sad?”_

_My mom laugh-cries and shakes her head, “No, baby girl, not sad. Happy, very very happy.” I notice my mom calls Alex “baby girl” and I remember that’s what she used to call me when I was little. Apparently there are a lot of things I subconsciously picked up from my mom… A big smile stretches across Alex’s face and my mom brings her hands to cup her cheeks, “Oh my god, Clarke. She has your father’s smile!” It surprises me she would say that, since my mom and dad weren’t exactly on good terms when he died, but I leave it alone… “She’s so beautiful.”_

_Alex takes to my mom instantly, and it turns out my mom is actually really good with kids. It brings back memories long forgotten – tender moments I forgot that my mom was capable of having. I was angry at her for so long that I forgot she was capable of affection, like I had blocked it out because it didn’t fit with the “emotionally aloof” box I’d placed her into. Seeing her with Alex brings out a softness I forgot she had._

* * *

_Just as Bellamy predicted, my mom was happy to finance a legal team to represent me. My attorneys and I respond to the allegations, vehemently denying any intention to leave the country with Alex. I swear in front of a judge, under oath, that I never made any statements that would indicate an intention to take Alex away._

_So, imagine my surprise when Nate’s legal team produces a document, specifically an email from_ my _work account that does, in fact, threaten to leave the country with Alex. In it, I make demands for full physical custody and decision making, threatening to abscond with Alex if my demands are not met. This did_ not _look good for me. I spent all this time fervently refuting something and now they’ve produced what looks like proof that I’ve perjured myself. I had no knowledge or recollection of sending something like that, but deny it as I may, the judge isn’t interested._

_The judge is now looking at me like I’m a pathological liar, and shit only goes downhill from there. After a lengthy day in the Courtroom, I manage to keep physical custody of my daughter, but my decision-making responsibilities are stripped and I have to hand over my passport. The Court orders a Parental Responsibilities Evaluator (PRE) to do an investigation and make recommendations on whether I’m a fit parent. It’s completely fucking humiliating._

_The only reason I’m able to maintain primary physical custody is because Alex is still breastfeeding. She’s two years old, and obviously it’s not her main source of nutrition, but it is a primary source of comfort for her. I’ve never been more grateful that I stuck with breastfeeding for so long…_

_As soon as we’re out of the court room, I explode. “Where the FUCK did that email come from?”_

_My attorney is trying to calm me down while Bellamy has a comforting hold on my shoulder. I see my mom and Raven off to the side engaged in conversation but available if I need them._

_I massage my temples, “Where the hell is Lexa?”_

_Bellamy squeezes my shoulder, “She left, said she had to get to a meeting, but she’d call you soon.”_

_“Seriously? She promised me she’d fucking be here! She promised she wouldn’t schedule anything today.” I feel like pulling my hair out._

_My attorney leads us out of the courthouse so that my hysterics aren’t on display for the judge, or the opposing party for that matter. “Ms. Griffin-”_

_"DOCTOR Griffin! How hard is it to remember – I’m a fucking DOCTOR!” I stop myself. I’m being unnecessarily rude, and it is not often I pull the “doctor” card. It probably has something to do with being humiliated in the court room… I take a deep breath. “I’m sorry. That was rude.”_

_My attorney seems to take it in stride, "That’s fine, Dr. Griffin.”_

_I shake my head, “No, just call me Clarke.  I was just being a bitch with the doctor thing.”_

_She smiles, “Okay, Clarke. Do you remember sending that email?”_

_The emotional day in the courtroom is taking its toll, and I’m actually crying at this point. “No! I never would have sent an email like that!” My mind is reeling with ideas, completely unsure of where this came from. “Could they have forged it? I mean, it was a fucking printout.”_

_“We’ll have our tech team look into it. In the meantime, you need to get some rest. It’s clear you’re stressed out. We’ll prepare a draft for our response to the Court’s orders as well as some motions of our own.”_

_I nod, “Okay. What do you need from me?”_

_She smiles again, “I need for you to rest. Go pick up your daughter and spend some time with her.”_

_“Okay.”_

_“The tech team will get in touch with you soon about the email details.”_

_“Thank you.”_

_Raven walks next to me, squeezing my hand (rather, giving my own hand something to grip) as we follow Bellamy and my mom to the car so Bellamy can drive us to pick Alex up. While we’re in the car, Raven has an idea._

_“Clarke, we should get Monty to look at the email. No offense, but the attorneys will probably take for fucking ever to get to this.”_

_I nod in agreement, “That’s a good idea. Let’s do that now.”_

_I dial Monty’s number, putting him on speaker._

_He picks up, “Clarke, what’s up?”_

_“Monty, if I gave you enough information, would you be able to tell me if an email was actually sent from my email address?”_

_“Have you met me?” Raven and I snort a laugh. Monty is somehow adorable when he’s being cocky. He thrives when he’s in his element._

_“That’s why I’m calling you, Monty.”_

_“Smart. What happened?”_

_I sigh, “Nate’s attorneys produced an email that I supposedly sent from my email account, and it’s pretty damning. I know for a fact I didn’t send it, but I don’t know if someone hacked my account or if they’re just making it up, you know? Would you be able to tell me that?”_

_“Probably. I’d need access to the metadata.”_

_“I don’t know what that means, Monty.” Bellamy laughs. I shoot him a glare before chuckling with him._

_Monty laughs, “I can do it, Clarke. I’ll come by your place tonight and get the info I need.”_

_“You’re the best, Monty. Thank you.”_

_After we hang up, my mom gives me a raised eyebrow, “Do I even want to know?”_

_I shake my head and laugh, “No, and I don’t know if I want to know, either.”_

* * *

_Monty does what I will forever refer to as “computer magic” and manages to gather up the following information: The email was sent from my account, but the IP address showed that it was sent from Portland, Oregon._

_“Who the fuck do we know in Portland?”_

_Monty looks at me uncomfortably, like he knows something I don’t._

_I raise an eyebrow, “What?”_

_“Well, look at the date. I remember that you were with us that day, and definitely not in Portland.”_

_I nod and smile, “Okay, so that’s good news for me, right? I obviously couldn’t have been the one who sent it.”_

_Monty nods, “Yeah. That is true.” He pauses, waiting for me to put more pieces together._

_I take a deep breath, “But someone still sent it… Who would have sent it?”_

_Monty shifts in his seat. The poor guy has this look on his face that practically screams “Don’t kill the messenger.”_

_Bellamy, who has been silent until now, clears his throat but speaks softly, “Clarke, Lexa was in Portland that whole week.”_

_Raven snorts, “That fucking bitch....”_

 

* * *

 

[back to present day]

 

Alex swallows, “Wow. So Lexa is the one who told them you wanted to take me away?”

I nod, “Yeah.”

“Why would she tell them that?”

I shrug, “I don’t know. When I finally got her to admit it, she said she was just trying to convince your dad to go away, but it backfired. She regretted it, but I couldn’t trust her anymore, not after that betrayal.”

Alex furrows her brows, “Did you? Want to take me away?”

I shake my head, “No, baby. Our life was here. Our life _is_ here. I never considered leaving. It has always been important for you to have your daddy in your life. Bellamy convinced me of that from the beginning, and he was right.” I give Bellamy a small smile of gratitude.

Alex nods, “Okay. Is that why we had to get away from Lexa?”

“Yeah. When the Court ordered that investigation, everyone found out about Lexa orchestrating this massive conflict between me and your dad. The PRE recommended that Lexa be forbidden to contact you, Alex. There was concern that she would try to alienate you from your father.”

“What does that mean?”

“We were worried that she would try and turn you against your dad

“But Lexa could still talk to you?”

“Technically, yes. But the unspoken implication was that I needed to cut off all contact with Lexa. She was toxic, honey.”  In all honesty the, 'implication' was that if I, as the mother, wasn't strong enough to keep Lexa away, I shouldn't be making decisions for Alex, period.  

“Did Lexa _want_ to hurt you?”

II shake my head, “No, I don’t think so. She just had an endgame in sight and was willing to do whatever it took to see it happen.”

Alex frowns, “What endgame?”

“Well… Lexa never wanted your dad to be involved, so she spent a lot of time trying to get him out of the picture. It was like that from the very beginning.”

“Oh. Well, I guess it’s good she’s gone.”

I give her a sad smile, “Yeah, it was for the best.  I wish I had seen the damage she was doing before it happened, though.”

Alex thinks on that for a little while, “So how did you get rid of Lexa?”

I have to scoff a laugh at that one, “It wasn’t easy. First I just told her that I needed her to back off, that I couldn’t have her part of my life anymore. That worked for a few months.” Alex furrows her brows but remains silent, so I continue. “Then, she would start showing up places and running into me ‘coincidentally’ here and there… Then the run-ins became more frequent, like she was trying to get me used to seeing her again.”

Alex twists her mouth to the side, “That sounds kind of sneaky.”

I nod, “Yes, it was very sneaky.”

Alex continues again, “Well, if it was just Lexa who was bad, why couldn't we see everyone else? Like Raven. And Jasper and Monty and Miller. .”

I nod, “Sadly, Lexa was using them, too.”

Alex narrows her eyes in suspicion, “Was there a _mole_ among them?”

Both Bellamy and I laugh at her word choice. “You watch too many spy movies, Alex… But no, there wasn’t really a ‘mole’ or anything. Lexa would just pump them for information, but in a sneaky way. She used them, constantly trying to re-integrate herself into our lives, even though I asked her to let us go.”

She nods, “So this is why I stopped seeing all our friends come around…”

“Yeah, that’s why.”

She tilts her head to the side again, “So how did you make everyone, like, go away?”

My shoulders drop as I exhale, “I told a big lie…”

Alex recoils slightly, “What? What did you say?”

“Well, that report and PRE’s recommendations, you know to get rid of Lexa – those came out at the end of Spring 2011, which was when I was about to start my final residency year. I spent the entire year trying to move on with our lives without Lexa, but she kept showing up. So, when my residency was finished, I told everyone that I was starting a Fellowship position at another hospital. Which was technically true, but I told them that it was a hospital in another city. I just didn’t tell anyone where.”

“Even Bellamy?”

I nod, “Even Bellamy.” I give him a sad smile. “I didn’t know what else to do. At the time, I thought it would be best to just do a clean break all around. I thought it was the only way to keep Lexa from finding out where we were. If I went away, I didn’t have to ask people to hide anything.”

Alex frowns, “Well, I’m glad we got Bellamy back.”

I lean my elbows on the table, “Me too, kiddo.”

She smiles, “And I’m glad we got everyone else back, too. Well, except Cray-Cray.”

“Do you have other questions?”

She shrugs, “That’s enough for right now. But I reserve the right to ask more questions later.”

“Okay.”

After Alex goes back into the living room, I shuffle through the papers to see exactly what she had access to. I’m thankful that the PRE report didn’t fall into her hands. The Court specifically prohibited Nate and me from allowing Alex access to the PRE report, which is a standard order in custody cases. Because of that provision, I took special care to store the PRE report in a place Alex wouldn’t find it. I give Nate a quick call to let him know that I was cornered by Alex because she found some court paperwork, giving him the cliffs-notes version of what Alex and I discussed. I wanted to give him a heads-up in case she started pummeling him with questions, too.

Bellamy is back in the kitchen, getting ready to make dinner. I step in beside him while he’s chopping up vegetables on the cutting board, only slightly distracted by his rippling forearms…

“Thanks.”

He frowns, “For what?”

“For deferring Alex’s questions to me. For encouraging her to just come out with it. I know she told you first. You probably could have answered some of the questions on your own, but I appreciate that you had her come to me, though.”

“I told Alex that those answers needed to come from you.”

I nod, “That was a good answer.”

He smirks, “Sometimes I’ve got good answers.”

I wrap my arms around his waist, “Yeah, you do.”

He gives me a quick kiss, then shoos me out of the kitchen, “Get out of here. I don’t need you burning something down...”

I laugh as I go into the living room to curl up with Alex on the couch while we binge on Netflix and wait for dinner. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So we've learned: They live in Colorado (because I know Colorado Family Law statutes, so I was able to make the custody process accurate. I didn't want to have to research another state's statutes and I really didn't want to make shit up).


	33. cards against humanity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke and Bellamy are taking a new step in their relationship, and we get to catch up with the gang.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure how happy I am with this chapter - I was hitting some writer's block this week with things like smut logistics, so I opted to put the smut scene into the next chapter. *Trigger Warning* There's _talk_ of some kinky/dark stuff in this chapter. 
> 
> Enjoy!

 

Bellamy and I are sitting at my kitchen table eating breakfast and reading up on the news (or, in my case, chasing wiki-loops) on our tablets after a lovely night of play, and it’s time to bring up something I’ve been both looking forward to and dreading in equal measure.

“I can hear you thinking, Clarke.”

I laugh, “I’m always thinking, Bellamy. It’s what I do.”

He raises an eyebrow, “Well, what’s so _loudly_ on your mind now?”

My hands come tougher on the table and I glance down at my fingernails, “Um, my lease ends soon.”

He sets his tablet to the side and leans forward, propping his elbows on the table, “I was wondering about that.”

I blink in surprise, “You were?”

He chuckles, “Well, yeah… we’ve been together a while. And, you told me you hate this place.”

I glance around the apartment that I’ve called home for the last two (almost three) years, “I don’t _hate_ it. I mean, it’s been good to me these past few years. It’s just… time to move on.”

His face takes on a lop-sided grin. “So are you suggesting we move in together?”

I push playfully at his chest, “Yeah, that’s what I’m suggesting. I know you own your place, and if I’m not mistaken, you like it.”

He nods, “Yeah, I like it just fine. If we were to have more kids than just Alex, we’d want a bigger place. I got the house because at the time, real estate was a buyer’s market, and it was better than paying rent. I’m not exactly attached to the place.”

I consider what he just said, “So, would you consider looking into buying a new place together?”

He nods, “I like that idea, actually. It’s a seller’s market now, and the property values at my place have risen considerably. I stand to make a lot of money by selling my house.”

I give him a smirk, “That’s a plus. I’m not opposed to neutral territory.”

He gasps, feigning disbelief, “Are you saying we might have some difficulty merging our living spaces?”

I turn my head away from him and give him a sidelong glance, “IKEA. 2007.”

Bellamy barks out a laugh, “Not our finest moment, I guess.”

I roll my eyes, “That’s an understatement.”

“Do you even remember what we fought about?”

I think about it for a moment, “I think it started because I was getting impatient because you were spending too much time looking at couches or something.”

He looks like he’s fondly reminiscing this moment of turmoil, “Yeah… That sounds about right. You were, and I quote, ‘Tired of wasting the afternoon looking at shitty couches for an apartment that wasn’t even yours.’ Then there was a snafu about directions or something.”

It’s coming back to me now. “Ha! Not just directions. We couldn’t agree on how to get out of the goddamn store. It devolved into a full-blown Bellamy-Clarke screaming match!”

He furrows his brow, “Oh yeah, that’s right - you kept wanting to go the wrong direction, and we would have ended up back at the entrance.”

I laugh haughtily, “No, no, nooooo, you have that backwards. _I_ was the one who knew where to go and _you_ were too stubborn to follow me.”

He crosses his arms over his chest, “Agree to disagree.”

I shake my head, “It didn’t end up mattering which one of us was right, since Security had to escort us out of the warehouse while we were _still_ screaming at each other.”

He smirks, “Well, it did solve the direction problem…” We laugh for a few moments before he cuts back in, “In all seriousness, I think we’ve matured since then.”

“Yeah, I think so, too. But still, I think the concept of neutral territory is a valid one in _our_ case. You know? Like we don’t have to be stepping on each other’s toes, worrying about whether it’s okay to move a lamp or rearrange a furniture setup. You know?”

He nods with a smile, “Yeah, we can make those decisions together in a new place.”

I smile back, “Starting fresh. I like it.”

 

* * *

 

After making the decision to sell his house, we thought it would be a good opportunity to throw a “Goodbye to Bellamy’s Bachelor Pad” party.

 **Octavia Blake**  
_Hey losers  
Bell  & Clarke’s party is Saturday_

 **Raven Reyes**  
_What time?_

 **Clarke Griffin**  
_Come at 5_

 **Jasper Jordan  
** _This is happening, people_

 **Raven Reyes**  
_oh god_

 **Maya Jordan**  
_Please excuse my husband  
He forgets he’s a grownup sometimes_

 **Nathan Miller**  
_Jasper, they’ve been together for months now_

 **Octavia Blake**  
_Jas, are you losing your cool again?_

 **Monty Green**  
_I think if someone has some benzos lying around  
They might come in handy_

 **Nathan Miller**  
_I’m pretending my boyfriend didn’t just suggest  
that we illegally dose someone with benzos_

 **Raven Reyes**  
_Chill your shit Miller.  
You’re not on the job_

 **Jasper Jordan**  
_I’m right here_

 **Octavia Blake**  
_I bet we could get Clarke to write an Rx or something  
Clarke, can u do that to appease the cop in this conversation?_

 **Clarke Griffin**  
_Why not_  
We’ll just crush some Ativan into some applesauce  
Calm him right down

 **Jasper Jordan**  
_Again, guys, I’m right here_

 **Octavia Blake  
** _R U gonna be able to keep your shit together or not?_

 **Jasper Jordan**  
_No guarantees_  
I just want to remind everyone  
That I was right

 **Raven Reyes**  
_WE KNOW JASPER_

 **Jasper Jordan**  
_I told you all Bellarke would happen_

 **Monty Green**  
_*eye roll*_

 **Jasper Jordan**  
_YEARS, people. YEARS._

 **Bellamy Blake**  
_BYOB, fuckers_

 **Raven Reyes**  
_Always the charmer, Blake_

 **Bellamy Blake** _  
And that nickname will NOT become a thing_

 **Clarke Griffin**  
_I’m with Bell there. No stupid nicknames  
Shutting down the “Bellarke” thing now_

 **Jasper Jordan**  
_#BellarkeForever_

 **Nathan Miller**  
_Srsly guys, you should know better than to bait Jasper like that  
Now it’ll never die _

 

“We’re here, bitches!” announces an adorably-pregnant Octavia as she waltzes (“I’m not waddling yet!”) through the front door with Lincoln, bearing bags of snacks. She lowers her voice when she walks by me, “FYI, Jasper’s right behind me, and he’s fangirling super hard.”

I laugh, “Still? He’s had like, months to adjust to this!”

Octavia just shrugs, “Maybe it’s the moving in together thing? I don’t know, it’s like he’s relapsing.” I follow her to the kitchen to help her unpack the party goods. Jasper comes crashing in a few moments later, followed by a heavily-pregnant (and apparently amused) Maya.

I pull Maya into a hug, “I’m so glad you made it.”

She pats her bulging belly and nods with a smile, “Yup. She’s still hanging tight in there.”

“When’s your due date?”

She laughs, “Two days ago. We’re trying to get out and about, keep moving, and see if we can maybe induce labor.”

I nod, “I hear you. It’s not uncommon for the first baby to overshoot the due date. She just wants to bake a little longer.”

Maya scoffs as she knots her fists at her lower back and tries to stretch out. Jasper comes bounding over, taking over and giving her a lower-back massage.

I admire, “Awww, Jasper. You’re such a good daddy already!”

Maya’s eyes are filled with affection, “We learned so many great techniques for all the pregnancy pains in our birth class – John and Emori were in our class, too. We’re both using the same midwife, too.”

“Who is your midwife?”

“You know her, actually. Or she knows you – Anya Walden.”

I feel an eager smile cross my face, “I do! She’s so wonderful! She attends such beautiful births. I first met her when I was on my OB rotation in med school. She was a big influence for why I went into OB.”

Maya nods, “She had great things to say about you.”

I grin, “She is such a warrior! Definitely my favorite midwife. The birth center is located one floor above mine in the hospital, so we cross paths a lot. Sometimes she lets me sit in on her births when I need a reminder of how beautiful and natural the birth process is.”

Maya tilts her head to the side, “You see births every day!”

A wistful smile crosses my features, “My patients’ births are, for the most part, very _medical_. They’re almost all high risk because that’s my specialty. So a lot of C-sections, honestly. But that’s just because of my patient population. I’m a strong proponent of natural birth for normal pregnancies. I’m a hippie at heart.”

As Octavia, Alex and I set out the snacks, Bellamy comes in behind me and hugs me from behind, laying a sloppy kiss to my neck. Octavia and Alex both groan in disgust while Jasper almost looks like he’s having a seizure. Maya rubs his back, thoroughly amused by her husband’s histrionics.

Miller walks in laughing, “Deep breaths, Jas.”

Monty add, “I was joking about dosing him, but _wow_ …”

Just in time, Wick and Raven show up.

Wick announces, “We come bearing alcohol!”

Raven elbows him, “We brought options for the preggos, too!”

Alex pipes up, “And me, too?”

Raven pops the cap on her beer bottle and ruffles the hair on top of Alex’s head, “I guess we’ve got something for you, too, kiddo.”

It is really wonderful getting everyone together again. We spend the afternoon playing Wii and other kid-friendly activities

After we get Alex to sleep, all the grownups stay up for a game of “Cards Against Humanity,” which is (as the title states) a party game for horrible people. It’s like Apples-to-Apples, but morbid and terrible. One person, the “Card Czar” pulls a black card and reads it off – it’s either a question or a fill-in-the-blank, then people answer it by submitting the white “answer cards.” Then the Card Czar decides which one best fits, or really, which one is most horrible…

Among the biggest hits were when they were answering my black card “ _Do NOT fuck with me! I am literally __________ right now.”_ (meaning everyone submitted a card to fill in the blank). Wick submitted “ _BATMAN_!!!” which earned uproarious laughter from everyone. Octavia put down “ _Breaking out into song and dance_ ,” prompting Raven to laugh and announce, “Yeah, guys. You’d better watch out when O’s in the break-into-song-and-dance mode.” Raven’s submission was “ _Being worshipped as the one true God_.” She justifies it, saying “Of course… I’m awesome!” Miller laughed, admitting his card was _“Destroying the evidence”_ and everyone chuckled at the irony coming from this straight-laced (though very gay) cop. Monty submitted _“Being fabulous”_ to which everyone agreed. When I read the card saying _“Copping a feel”_ Bellamy literally groped my boobs in front of everyone, sending Jasper into near-hysterics. Jasper’s card was _“A monkey smoking a cigar”_ which was just goofy enough to be Jasper’s. The winning card was Maya’s, which read _“Throwing a virgin into a volcano.”_ Which, to be honest, who would fuck with that? The fact that her name was similar to a culture that may have practiced virgin sacrifice may have had something to do with everyone’s amusement. Maya followed up with “FYI, guys, The Mayans sacrificed virgin _boys_ not girls. And they probably threw them into craters, not volcanoes.” Then she shrugged her shoulders like it was no big deal.

Other winning card combos included “ _In the distant future, historians will agree that ___________ marked the beginning of America’s decline_ ” and _“a broken condom._ ” Alex actually came into the living room to ask us to please quiet down after we were laughing so loudly at the pairing of “ _What’s Teach for America using to inspire inner city students to succeed?”_ paired with _“A snapping turtle biting the tip of your penis.”_  

It was truly great getting everyone back together again, and I decided then and there that I wanted it to be a more frequent occurrence. Too much time had been lost to not make an effort.

 

* * *

 

 

As Bellamy predicted, his house sold very quickly – there were offers on the table within hours of listing the place. He turned a hefty profit on it, too. Just in time, we found the perfect place for us and made an offer immediately. We fell in love with a four-bedroom house with a finished basement (read: Grown-up “play” room) and a great outdoor setup for parties in the summer.   We were both really, really excited about it.

Then came the move-in.

 

* * *

 

[Bellamy POV]

I can’t recall a point when Clarke and I have been more at each other’s throats than we are right now. Every single fucking thing has become a travesty.

We are officially at a low point in terms of maturity… We’re in the middle of yet another argument.

“No, Clarke. If we put the couch here, the people sitting on it won’t be able to see the TV.”

She animatedly massages her temples before grinding between her teeth, “Bellamy, for the hundredth time, I DON’T WANT A FUCKING TELEVISION IN THE MAIN LIVING ROOM!”

I get in her face, “WELL. I. DO.” I’m being an asshole. I don’t care about the television, honestly. But Clarke was belittling my “Man Cave” earlier, so this is the next logical thing to be an asshole about.

She throws her hands up, “You didn’t care about the fucking TV yesterday!”

I shrug, “I changed my mind.”

“OH? Changed your mind?! You’re being a fucking idiot, Bellamy!”

“ _I’m_ being an idiot?”

A small but powerful little voice pierces the air, “YOU’RE BOTH BEING IDIOTS!!!”

Clarke and I both do a double take, our gazes darting over to a pissed-off looking Alex. The kid has her hands on her hips, lips curled into a sneer, and a glare that could give even Clarke a run for her money. Neither Clarke nor I seem to be able to find words right now.

Alex points at a chair, “Mom, sit there.” She points at another chair and glares at me, “You. Sit there.” Both Clarke and I comply. I’ll look back at this moment and laugh at myself for being taken to task by a seven-year old. Clarke’s seat is just a few feet apart from mine, and Alex steps back so she can face both of us at the same time. She crosses her arms over her chest, lips pressed together into a thin line, shaking her head and looking utterly disappointed.

“We all agreed yesterday that this room didn’t have a good place for a television because there’s so much natural light. Remember?”

Clarke and I both nod. I add, “Yeah, but-“

Alex closes her eyes and raises her hand in a “stop” motion, “No ‘buts,’ that was what you said. This is going to be the reading room. Reading is better for the brain, and we all said we wanted to keep the TV in the other room.”

I sigh, nodding while rolling my eyes. “Fine.”

Alex shifts her weight to the other hip, obviously not done chewing us out yet. “I’m not going to solve every argument. I’m seven and I’m not a therapist. So figure out a way to like… agree, or whatever… on something. Like give-and-take. What’s the word?”

Clarke raises an eyebrow, “ _Compromise?”_

Alex rolls her eyes, “Yeah. Compromise. That’s the word I wanted.”

I nod, “Compromise. Fine.”

Clarke agrees, “We can compromise.”

Alex rolls her eyes and leaves the room, clearly fed up with her mom’s and my antics thus far.

I kick at Clarke’s foot playfully, “I can think of a few ways to come to decisions...”

She raises an eyebrow, “Is that right?”

I nod with a smirk, “Oh yeah.”

And _that’s_ how I introduced Clarke to predicament bondage.

 

* * *

 

 

Here’s the thing with predicament bondage: It’s torture. I put her into a position where she has to actually make a choice between a metaphorical rock and a hard place (Although I have, in the past, set up scenarios literally involving rocks and hard places). It calls for creativity on my part, and if I’m doing it right, challenges Clarke’s endurance, pain threshold, or pride.

“Okay, Princess. Let’s talk.”

She crosses one leg over the other, resting her elbow on her thigh, propping her chin on the palm of her hand. “Okay. Talk.”

“You want the guest room to have this hideous pale green bedding. I hate it and don’t want to subject our guests to the eyesore.”

She rolls her eyes, “You’re the only one who feels that way, Bellamy.”

I put a hand up, “Agree to disagree.” (We’ve been using that statement a lot these past few weeks).

“Fine. Get on with it. You want the boring grey bedding. How do you suggest we compromise on this one, Bellamy?”

I give her a wicked grin. “I wouldn’t call it _compromise_ so much as _earning_.”

She raises an eyebrow, clearly not amused by this, “You’re telling me I have to earn the privilege of decorating my guest room how I want?”

I shake my head, _“Our_ guest room, Clarke.”

She takes a dramatically deep breath, “Point taken. Decisions can’t be unilateral. Fine, what do you suggest?”

“So I’m going to put you into predicament bondage.”

“What the fuck is that?”

“It’s where I put you in a situation where you’re in a difficult or painful position, and the only way to relieve the discomfort from position ‘A’ is to move to position ‘B’ which will be equally painful or uncomfortable.”

She chuckles, “That sounds like hell.”

I smirk, “Perhaps, but you tend to enjoy a lot of things that might be described by others as _hellish.”_

She gives me a wry grin, “True. Give me an example.”

“So you know how we outfitted our bedroom with those lovely benign-looking ceiling hooks?”

“Our play hooks, you mean?”

I nod, “Yeah, those. So, I’d suspend you so you’re forced to stay on your tiptoes.”

She rolls her eyes, “Okay, standing on tiptoes – what’s the big deal there?”

I smirk, “I suppose tiptoes doesn’t sound too intimidating for a few minutes. Imagine trying to hold it for half an hour.”

Her eyes widen, “You wouldn’t.”

“You know I would.”

Clarke shrugs her shoulders, “What’s to keep me from coming down from tiptoes when I want to.”

The darkness in my laugh might be alarming to a normal person, but Clarke seems to be only more intrigued when she hears it. “Nipple torture. Maybe pussy torture.”

She raises an eyebrow and smirks, “I’m listening.”  

“So you’d be stuck on your delicate little tippy toes, and your nipples would be attached to clover clamps – you know, the ones that tighten every time you pull on them?”

She moans, “Mmmm, yes… I know those.” I take a moment to collect my thoughts, since the orgasmic moan was unexpected. But this is Clarke, I should just expect the unexpected with her…

I continue, “So, I’d have the nipple clamps attached to a spot on the wall in a way so every time you tried to come off of your tiptoes, they would tug at your nipples, tightening every time, of course.”

She leans toward me and whispers in my ear, “Do you know how _wet_ I’m getting just _hearing_ you talk about this?” As I’m sure was her intention, I can’t suppress a groan when she says that. She smirks again then sits up straight. “So how does this relate to decorating decisions?”

“Well, I’ll give you a time limit, and you have to endure whatever predicament I place you in for a certain amount of time, and if you’re successful and you make it, you’ll get your way for whatever decision we can’t agree upon.”

She nods, “Okay. And if I’m not ‘successful?’”

I give her a smirk, “Then we go with my choice.”

She leans back, “So, you’re telling me I just have to put up with some random sexual torture for a certain amount of time, and I’ll get my way?”

I nod, “That’s simplifying it, and I _promise_ you it won’t be random, but yeah, that’s the idea.”

She crosses her arms, “Deal.” After a few moments of deliberation, “I think you’re underestimating my pain tolerance, Bellamy. Have you forgotten, I’ve been through childbirth?”

I smile with a head shake, “Different kinds of pain, sweetheart…”

She smirks, “Game on, then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, THANK YOU GUYS SO MUCH for all the feedback you've been giving. It really does help (and really makes my day)!!! 
> 
> **NOTE for those of you who are like, _"What the fuck? This does not seem kosher..."_ : Before freaking out, please see the next chapter for explanation on the way they'll utilize predicament bondage. It's a kinky game, and they would NEVER use it to make serious or weighty decisions. Think of it as an activity to "spice up" the mundane. ;) The notes on the next chapter have a thorough explanation of what I mean by all that. 
> 
> I could DEFINITELY use feedback on this chapter - I haven't really done "party scenes" before, or scenes involving more than three or so people, so this presented an unexpected challenge to me. I obviously needed to include a Fangirling Jasper because I need an antidote to the dark and brooding Jasper oh the show (so sad)... I wondered where we get the idea for fangirl Jasper, but I just think of Devon Bostik and how he's basically the original Bellarke fangirl... Also got some Minty in there because I love that idea (even if it may never come to fruition on the show). I think I'd also like to explore more of Maya's character because she's freaking adorable (and brave and awesome) on the show (Eve Harlow is an awesome actress) and I wish so much that she hadn't died... Eventually, I'd love to explore each character's story through a mix of flashbacks and real-time interactions, but I wanted to rope them back into the story all together, so I used a party scene...


	34. take me to my limit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bellamy and Clarke explore predicament bondage... 
> 
> Things get a little more intense than they anticipated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to clarify something: This is a **_GAME_** for Bellamy and Clarke. They aren’t going to make serious decisions based on how well Clarke can navigate a predicament (or whether Bellamy is capable of outsmarting her). If it’s something where either Bellamy or Clarke would be genuinely upset about “losing,” they’re not going to let the decision ride on this. **If it’s too serious to flip a coin over, it’s basically not “eligible” for this game.**
> 
> The setup seems unfair at first glance – Bellamy’s preference is essentially the “default” (you do this or I win). HOWEVER – keep in mind that that he’s setting up physical and psychological puzzles for someone who is _extremely competitive, hard-headed, and creative_. It’ll be just as difficult for Bellamy to construct challenging-but-fair predicaments for Clarke. The setup of a predicament often takes longer than the actual challenge, depending on the intricacy of the mechanisms and what not. Bellamy will play fair, otherwise Clarke won’t participate. And Clarke knows not to abuse/incorrectly use the safe word (“incorrect use” would be calling it simply because she’s about to lose the challenge. The safe word is sacred in both directions – you don’t call it unless you genuinely need to stop or slow down. Don’t use it as a loophole just because you don’t want to lose.). 
> 
> Some people will flip a coin. Kinky people might make a sexual game out of it. They go into each challenge with the understanding that neither one will lose their cool if the other one wins. 
> 
> ****TRIGGER WARNINGS****  
>  Heavy pain and erotic beating

 

[Bellamy POV]

I’m downright _giddy_ thinking about the endless possibilities when it comes to putting Clarke into predicament bondage. The sadistic part of me is unreasonably excited to watch Clarke struggle with balancing the circumstances of each challenge I construct for her. 

I’m sitting on the bed, flipping through our playlists on my tablet. Just as I’ve settled on one and hooked it up to the room speakers, Clarke comes sauntering into the bedroom, locking the door behind her. Judging by the look on her face, she’s clearly certain she’s going to win these little games. To be honest, she’s more than stubborn enough to meet my challenges, simply because she wants to win at _any_ contest put in front of her. That’s just “Clarke Griffin vs. Bellamy Blake 101.” I’m fully aware that I’ve got my work cut out for me here. I pat a spot on the bed next to me, wordlessly asking her to come sit down.

She comes and sits down so we’re face-to-face. I start, “Let’s lay down some ground rules, okay.”

She smiles, “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“So, here’s the deal. We’re not going to make serious decisions with this, okay?”

She nods, “Obviously. The point of this is to make the monotonous choices more… fun.”

I smirk, “Exactly. This way, when it comes time to deal with things that actually require discussion and/or logical dialogue, we don’t have these inconsequential things to lord over each other’s heads.”

She rolls her eyes, “Such as the living room furniture setup?”

I tilt my head, twisting my mouth to the side. “Well, honestly, that one was a little deeper – it involved logical considerations, like whether the TV even belonged in there.”

She cuts in with a triumphant grin, “Which it _doesn’t_.”

I laugh, “We established that, thanks to a certain seven-year old.”

She smirks, “It’s sad when we get called out by a second grader for childish behavior…” She straightens back up, “Honestly, though. I feel like the collective weight of the “little” things has been making everything feel a lot bigger than it really is, you know?”

I nod, “Yeah. Okay, let’s make a list of things that qualify for our predicament bondage decisions.”

She frowns, “What are the qualifications?”

“Basically, if it’s too serious to flip a coin over, it’s not eligible for this.”

She nods, “Agreed. The stakes can’t be too high – I don’t want to set myself up to be too disappointed if I don’t get my way.” A wicked grin stretches across her face, “And, I don’t want you getting all butt hurt because I beat all your little puzzles.”

I roll my eyes, “It’s a balancing act on my part. I can’t start you off too intense. We start easy and work our way up to things that are actually challenging.”  

We go through our seemingly unending list of shit that we have to decide on. We eliminate anything that doesn’t have a black-and-white answer, leaving us with items that simply require us to make a choice – like the color of the baseboards in the guest bedroom, or light fixtures for the downstairs bathroom. The options have been laid out, we just have to come to a decision. Furthermore, if it is something that has a significant impact on another decorating decision, we eliminate it from the game. We’re basically playing a kinky version of eeny-meeny-miny-moe. We narrow it down to a whopping 36 items.

She breathes a relieved sigh, “It will be such a relief to just get this shit out of the way.”

I nod, “Yeah. Honestly, though – I think some of these will require a good old-fashioned coin-toss because it takes time to set predicament bondage up, and even if we were to plug away at few every night, which is more than even I have energy for, it could still take a month.”

Clarke tilts her head to the side, “I think it’s been proving to be kind of dangerous to have all of these undecided elements. I realized that I’ve been making a big deal about shit that really _doesn’t_ matter to me one way or the other. When I take a step back, I’m not actually invested in whether the baseboards in Alex’s room are white or off-white.  Like, I have a preference, but it’s not something that really makes or breaks my day, you know? But, when we’re tense, when we’re in the middle of a disagreement, I suddenly attach value to it and dig my heels in for no reason.”

I lean back against the pillows for a minute to give this some thought, “Yeah, that’s what I’ve found myself doing, too.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Like the couch today – I know for a fact that I was only being a dick about it because you said something mean about my man cave.”

Her eyes widen in surprise, “Really? What did I say?”

I laugh, “I don’t remember specifically what you said, but it was condescending.”

The corners of her lips turn down, “Bell, I’m sorry. I was in a bitchy mood today.”

“It’s alright. Was it from anything I did?”

She shakes her head, “No, it’s not you. It’s just one of those days – woke up on the wrong side of the bed or whatever. It obviously wasn’t fair of me to take that out on you, or your man cave.” She grins when she talks about the man cave. It started out as a joke, but the idea of each of us having a place to call our own was actually quite appealing. So, I get a man cave, she gets creative control of the piano and its surroundings.

“I’m sorry for being a dick about the living room – like, I was  _definitely_ deliberately picking that fight.”

She laughs, “I totally took the bait, though… You’re forgiven.”

I smirk, “So are we good on the living room sofa debacle?”

She nods, “Yeah, we’re good.” She gives me a wide grin, “Now, I want to play.”

“Are the white noise machines on?”

She nods with an eye roll, “On _high_. We could drop a piano in here and Alex wouldn’t hear it. Now, what are you gonna do to me first?”

I smirk, “Well, the first one I’m going to do is more _cerebral_ than anything, and it’s not going to be like choosing between a rock and a hard place. We’ll ease you into increasingly demanding dilemmas. This first experiment is more about endurance and control.”

She raises an eyebrow, “How so?”

I make my way over to her, holding a spool of thread in my hand. “Your first challenge will be to endure whatever I give you, _without_ snapping this thread.”

Her eyes widen when she looks at the delicate fiber. “You’re gonna like, tie that a bunch of times around, right?”

I laugh, “Not a chance, Princess… Where would the challenge be if I did that?”

She narrows her eyes and feigns indifference, “ _Fine_ , let’s get to it, then.”

I stand up then pull her to her feet so she’s standing in front of me. I tilt her chin up and she catches my lips with hers, deepening the kiss immediately. She whines in obvious frustration when I pull back too soon for her liking.  

I chuckle at her frustration before ordering her, “Strip.”

She smirks, stepping back a few strides away from me, “You want a show or do I just lose the clothes?”

I lean back against the bed, “Surprise me, Princess.” As if fate was making her decision for her, “Cherry Pie” by Warrant starts playing through the speakers.

Clarke grins as she starts moving her hips in a slow, seductive circle. She crooks her fingers in a “come hither” motion, tilting her head toward the chair that’s sitting against the wall (I’m not sure why it’s in here, but it’s certainly useful right now). I walk over to the chair and she starts walking toward me, one foot in front of the other, popping her hips with each stride. When she reaches me, she pokes a finger into my sternum, prompting me to sit down. After I’m comfortably seated, she wrenches my knees apart, and steps between them. She takes hold of both of my wrists and brings my hands to her shirt. I tug at the hem of her shirt with my fingers and she nods, so I pull the shirt up and over her head as she shimmies her way out of it. She gives me a seductive smile as she deliberately runs the palms of her hands all over her torso. She throws her head back and pushes her tits together with a gasp, then lifts her head back up with a smirk when she hears my strangled groan. She’s rocking her hips as she turns around to face away from me. My hands travel to her waist of their own accord, and she wraps her fingers around my wrists, pulling my hands to her front, guiding them to the opening of her shorts. I take the hint and start slowly unbuttoning them, gratuitously grazing the skin along her abdomen in the process.

Clarke’s palms glide back up her body until she’s carding her fingers through her own hair. I unzip her shorts, then grasp the waistband, pulling down slowly as she sways her hips to free herself of them. She twists her hips in circles as she turns back around to face me again, and I can’t resist biting a mark into the side of her torso. She squeals as I sink my teeth into the creamy flesh, bringing her fingers to tangle themselves in my hair while I suck harshly at the skin trapped between my teeth. When I can taste the change in her skin, I know my mark will be dark enough for my satisfaction. I pull away with a wolfish grin on my face and when she finishes inspecting her newly bruised flesh, she meets my gaze, reflecting my insatiable hunger in her own eyes.

Clarke wastes no time divesting herself of her bra, and I take the opportunity to draw another mark onto her left breast, just outside of her areola. She groans excitedly as I keep abrading the tender flesh with rough strokes of my tongue. She can’t see this one quite so easily, so when she whimpers in frustration, I chuckle against her skin, “It’ll be your little prize when you look in the mirror later.” She grins and nods, then rolls her hips side to side as she steps away from me, wearing nothing but the red lace tanga on her hips. She’s too far away for me to reach, and she knows it. With a flirty smile, she hooks her fingers into the lace on her hips and teasingly drags them down her luscious hips. Once they reach mid-thigh, she sways her hips provocatively so that they fall off her body. They land around her ankles and after stepping out of one side, she uses her other foot to fling them my direction. I catch them just as the song ends, and I have to wonder if she’s done a striptease to this tune before…

She asks with a mischievous smirk, “So what are your plans for me tonight?” I stand up, towering above her.

I narrow my eyes and tilt my head toward the bed, “On the bed, Princess.” She straightens her spine and walks gracefully over to the bed then takes a seat on the edge. I follow her and stand in front of her where she’s seated.  "Again, we’re going to start easy, and possibly even fun elements for these initial predicaments.”

She nods, “If you say so, Sir.”

I huff a laugh, “I _do_ say so, Princess.” She smiles playfully, nudging my legs with her toes. “Like I said before, your first predicament will be whether you’re able to endure whatever I decide to do to you _without_ snapping this-“ I hold the spool of thread up for demonstration “-fine, delicate thread. I’ll set a time goal of twenty minutes.”

She frowns, “And where exactly are you going to tie the thread, again?”

“I’m going to tie your thumbs to the bed post.”

She takes a deep breath but doesn’t say anything. “You doubting yourself already?”

She huffs, “Well, I’m not the most _serene_ individual in bed.”

I shrug, “Then consider this a learning experience.”

She raises an eyebrow, “Oh, don’t misunderstand me. I can be still and steady when I need to be. I am an obstetric surgeon. Steady hands are a requirement.”

I dip my head down so I can speak directly into her ear, “It’s one thing to keep steady hands when you’re at work.” I lower my voice, “But would you be able to do it with my tongue plunged into your dripping wet cunt, writhing around as I build up your orgasm?”

She closes her eyes and visibly shudders, clearing her throat before speaking again, “Uhm… I think that would be more difficult.”

I nibble on her earlobe for good measure before standing back up, looming over her with a wicked smirk on my face. She looks momentarily worried, so I cup her face, “You’ve got this, Princess.”

She smiles resolutely, “I know I do, Sir. So what’s at stake for this one?”

I shrug, “We’re starting small…” I have to think a minute for something that will matter without being too important. If she does lose the first time around (and there’s a good chance she will snap the thread), I’d rather it be over something of minor importance, or something I know she genuinely doesn’t care about. “Okay, the mirror in the downstairs bathroom – you prefer an oval shape, I prefer a rectangular mirror.” She nods so I continue, “You make it through this without snapping the thread, we’ll order the oval mirror.”

She nods her head curtly, “Deal.”

“Alright, Princess.” I pat a spot on the corner of the bed, “Scoot this way, then lay on your back with your arms above your head.” She complies, grabbing onto the bedpost. I flick her fingers away with a dark laugh, “Nice try, but _no_ … Using the bedpost to anchor your own hands takes away the challenge.”

She sighs dramatically, “It was worth a shot.” I scoot her down a little farther so that her fingers can’t actually touch the bedpost. I wrap the thread around a thumb, tying it off with a square knot then loop it around the post, attaching it to the other thumb. I have it tied so that she can’t bring her hands together to clasp them without snapping the thread – that would make this too easy.  

I walk around to the side of the bed, starting the twenty-minute timer on my phone. “I would tell you to test the hold, but then you’d immediately lose, wouldn’t you.” She rolls her eyes with a scoff. I sharply and suddenly pinch the skin just above a new hickey and she jerks in surprise. She smirks, knowing she didn’t flail enough to break the thread. I reward her with a soft caress along up her side, making sure to graze her armpits softly in an attempt to tickle her. The woman doesn’t even flinch. I nod, “Color me impressed…. So far.”

She makes a “Hmph” sound and nods her head, quite clearly proud of herself. I get onto the bed next to her and straddle her waist. I’m still wearing jeans, which are likely scratchy as hell against her skin, so she huffs in annoyance.

“Why are _you_ still dressed?”

I raise an eyebrow, “Are you talking to me?” She nods. I laugh, “Because I thought I told you to address me as _Sir_ in here.” I frown, “Do you need a reminder?”

She shivers with a wry grin, “No, Sir. I’m sorry.”

I brush her cheek with my thumb and give her a thoughtful smile, “Of course you are, Princess. To answer your question – despite your lack of respect when asking it – I’m still dressed because I don’t need to be naked.”

She rolls her eyes and grumbles something unintelligible.

My tone is warning, “Careful… Don’t test my patience. Or my leniency. I’ll take my clothes off when it’s time for me to take them off.”

She nods, “Yes, Sir. I understand.” I stroke the side of her cheek with the back of my fingers with an approving nod as I return to my teasing.

“Good girl.”

 

* * *

 

 

[Clarke POV]

I’m realizing now that my self-assuredness may have been a little premature. Keeping my hands (or any part of me) still during his ministrations is going to be very, _very_ difficult. I feel him lightly drag his fingers along the sensitive undersides of my arms, starting at my wrists and heading toward my body. I feel the skin tighten across my entire body as goosebumps erupt all over me. He scoots down, straddling me below my hips, careful not to jostle me in the process. He keeps caressing me, lightly trailing his fingertips along my sides, across my chest and abdomen, and everywhere else his long arms can reach. I want so badly to just close my eyes and _feel_ this, because it’s just heavenly, but I wouldn’t be able to anticipate anything I couldn’t see what he was doing. I’m _so_ not about to lose round one.

Bellamy smirks when he sees my nipples pebble up, seemingly pleased with the way they respond to him. I have to make a concerted effort to remain still when he closes his mouth over a nipple, flattening his tongue and laving it over my sensitive nub. He chuckles against my skin when I groan wantonly in response. I am actually able to anticipate that he’s going to bite down – I’m proud that as his teeth sink into my breast, I’m able to control my physical reaction. The sensation is overwhelming, and trying to control the physical response is akin to hugging a stick of lit dynamite… The surge of sensation has nowhere to go, so it detonates inside of my chest instead.

He moves so he’s no longer straddling me, and I should have predicted his next onslaught would be upon my cunt… He plunges two fingers in without warning and my whole body tenses up with anticipatory pleasure. _“Oh, fuck!”_

He chuckles, “That’s the idea, Princess…”

I would love to groan at how unfair it is that he’s still fully dressed and composed while I’m a writhing mess underneath him, but I’m enjoying every second of it… Just as I’m finding a happy medium, where I can enjoy the feeling while controlling the physical manifestation of my pleasure, he backs off and removes his hands completely. That proves to be a jarring change in itself and my arms almost flail out from the loss of contact.

He gives me an evil grin and inches himself backwards while spreading my legs apart.

I shake my head frantically, “Oh, no, no, no, no! _You wouldn’t!”_ Despite my protests, I’m having to make a rigorous effort to fight the grin that’s threatening to cross my face.

His laugh is sinister, “Princess, don’t _even_ pretend you didn’t know from the get-go that I was gonna make you come like this.”

He’s right. I totally knew he’d do this. I’m wound up like a goddamn top and trying to hold it all inside of me is proving to be extremely difficult. As if he can sense my frustration (and he can - he is obviously _reveling_ in it), he drops his head between my thighs and begins a ruthless assault on my cunt. When his fingers aren’t thrusting into my pussy, raking ceaselessly over that magical g-spot, his tongue is plunged inside of me, stroking my inner walls with precision. He brings me _so fucking close_ to the edge, but I’m keeping myself from going over. If I come, I am almost certain I’ll snap the thread.

I have an “Aha!” moment when I figure out his challenge: _I have to control my orgasm on my own._ There’s no asking for permission to come. No, quite the opposite – If I have any hope of keeping this god-forsaken thread intact, I absolutely can NOT come undone under his perfect, soft, strong, delicious tongue... If I thought it was explosive trying to contain the sensations caused by Bellamy’s teeth around my nipple, this is fucking _nuclear_. When he’s telling me what to do, ordering me to keep my orgasm at bay, I almost always find it in me to do so successfully. But here, without his direct order to control myself? I’m absolutely _flailing_ on the inside, and that feeling is _so fucking unsettling_.

Bellamy starts pulling out all the stops. My frustrated growls sound like they’re coming from an _actual animal_ when he closes his lips around my clit, sucking it into his mouth. And of _course_ , he intensifies it, humming while skillfully stroking my swollen clit with his tongue, tugging at it just right as his skilled fingers undo me from the inside… Just when I think I can’t take any more, I hear the timer go off, signaling my twenty minutes are up. I yell out, “Fuck yes! Oval mirror! Ohhhhh _g-god!”_ He growls against my cunt, which sends me crashing over the edge as I cry out in both victory and ecstasy. I’m not sure when the thread snaps, but by the time I’ve regained some semblance of self-control, my hands are by my head and I’m raking my fingernails over my lips.

I see his wolfish grin surfacing as he kisses his way back up my body. I return it with a smug grin of my own. He pulls me into a sitting position as he draws me into a scorching kiss that threatens to unravel me all over again. “So how does victory taste, Princess?”

I smirk, having just tasted my own juices in his mouth, “Mmm… It tastes like… _me_ , actually.”

He nods with a playful smile, “So, oval mirror in the downstairs bathroom. We’ll put the order in tomorrow.”

I’m pretty excited to see what else he has in store for me in that sadistic mind of his. “So what’s next?”

He grins, “I have an idea that’s a mix of cerebral and painful.”

I narrow my eyes playfully, “I’m listening.

“So, I’ll start by binding your wrists together, then suspending your arms above you using the ceiling rings.”

We both glance up at the rings attached to the ceiling, which were specifically placed in areas that can bear significant weight. When not in use, I’ll have decorative items hung from them so as to not draw suspicion from vanilla people. “Okay, then what?”

“Well, I’ll attach clover clamps to your nipples.” Bellamy rakes his fingernails over my nipples as he speaks, eliciting a ravenous groan from me. “I’ll use the clover clamps that are connected by chain. I’ll have you stand on your tiptoes so I can attach the chain to a rope that I’ll run through one of the rings. Basically, as long as you’re on your tiptoes, you’ll have slack in the chain.”

I nod, “So basically, if I let myself relax my legs, the nipple clamps will pinch the hell out of me?”

He chuckles, “Not only that – they’ll get tighter every time – remember they’re clover clamps.”

I smile, “Okay. Is that it?”

He shakes his head with a wicked smirk, “No, I’m going to set up the Hitachi vibrator up at a height that will engage your clit if you come down off your tiptoes.”

I laugh, “Okay, Einstein, how is that supposed to _discourage_ me from relaxing my soon-to-be exhausted calves? You know that a vibrator plus nipple torture is like instant-orgasm city for me!”

His laugh is downright dark, “Oh, but Princess, you won’t be _allowed_ to come. In fact, if you _do_ come, you fail and I win.”

I feel my jaw slacken. That _will_ be difficult, but I love a good challenge. I nod slowly, “Okay. I’ll do it.”

He smiles, pressing a kiss to my temple, “Excellent. While I’m setting up, I want you to edge yourself.”

When he orders me to “Edge” myself, it means I have to play with myself, stimulating my cunt to near-orgasm without going over. It’s a blissfully torturous challenge. As he stands up and moves off the bed, I groan in that way that gets him hard fast. Or in his case, _harder_ , since he’s quite obviously hard already. If I have to endure sexual torture, I might as well make sure he’s a little bit uncomfortable, too. I feel a jolt of satisfaction when he freezes in place. He’s facing away from me, but I know by now what his face looks like when I do that – his eyes close while he catches his breath, lips just slightly parted. He’s beautiful, really. Yeah, I know how to ring his bell… I hear him sigh as he walks over to the closet to fetch the things he needs for this game of ours. Meanwhile, I slip my fingers between my folds. The slower method of edging for _me_ is finger penetration and occasional clit stimulation. While I watch Bellamy rig up his setup. I make a show of my self-pleasure, and I can tell that every breathless moan, every wanton groan is going straight to my love’s cock…

Once everything is set up to his satisfaction, Bellamy walks back over to me. His pupils are so blown out, I can’t even see his irises anymore. He grips my ankles and hauls me to the edge of the bed and swallows my surprised shriek with a devastating kiss. My nerve endings are already on fire from the time I’ve spent edging myself, so as soon as his fingers are carding through my hair and squeezing my ass, I feel like I’m about to fucking _combust._

When he finally pulls away, one hand still tangled in my hair, he looks down at me with an expression of fondness and adoration. I bring my fingers up to touch his face, because for some reason I can’t resist it. The corners of his mouth quirk up into a smile and he turns his face to catch my fingers in a kiss.

I sigh, satisfied. “So, what are the parameters?”

He looks thoughtfully at the ceiling, “Let’s start at twenty minutes. I would usually do fifteen minutes or less for a newcomer, but you have excellent leg muscles, so I don’t think fifteen minutes would be quite the challenge I want it to be. Half an hour is a little much this time, I think.”

I nod, “I think twenty minutes is manageable.”

“What are the stakes, Princess?”

I look at our list of ‘eligible’ items and pick one. “Paint color for the walls in the office?”

He nods in agreement, “Sounds good. You seemed to like Parlor Sage. What was the other option?”

“Shoreline Haze.”

He nods, “Yeah, that’s right.”

“Okay, so to clarify, if I complete the challenge, we’ll paint the office Parlor Sage.”

“Correct. And if you fail, we paint it Shoreline Haze." I feel myself wince at the word _fail_. “Let’s get started, Princess.”

“Yes, Sir.”

First, Bellamy brings out the clover clamps. He gently rakes his fingernails along my breast and my skin comes _alive_. He bends his head down to my chest and licks a slow circle around my areola with his brilliant tongue. My breath hitches when he flattens his tongue over my nipple, gently stimulating those nerve endings. He has a voracious glint in his eye when I catch his gaze… When he closes his lips over my nipple, my head drops back and my hands find their way into his hair. He groans when he sucks at it and the rumble of his deep voice vibrates through my body like an earthquake. He releases it with a “pop” and gently blows on the glistening flesh, coaxing my nipple into a fully erect state. He repeats the treatment on my other nipple, skillfully priming me for the nipple clamps that await me.

Bellamy trails the clamps around my nipple, brushing gently over the areola, increasing the anticipation exponentially… “You ready?”   I nod with a timid smile. He clamps each nipple in turn, slowly increasing the pressure until I wince, indicating it’s just at the edge of what I’m ready to take. My task for the next few minutes will be to avoid anything that might pull or drag on the chain attached to the clamps, since that will cause an increase in pressure.

Bellamy carefully binds my wrists together in a “load-bearing” tie, meaning they won’t tighten or constrict when it’s pulled on. In a show of mercy, he is especially careful not to jostle the chain. Although this isn’t a full suspension setup, the concept is the same – specific knots are used when they will be bearing weight. He connects my wrist bindings to a rope that he ran through a ceiling hook when he was setting everything up.

I frown, “Aren’t I supposed to be on tiptoes for this?”

He shakes his head, “Not yet. I’ll have you on tiptoes when I attach the nipple clamps to the suspension ropes.”

I feel a shiver shoot through me at the thought. He has “MacGyvered” a stand of sorts for the Hitachi Magic Wand that allows him to adjust the height.

“Spread your legs open a little.” I comply and he moves the stand and adjusts the height so that it will contact my clit when I’m standing on my heels. It’s not on yet, so it’s just resting on my clit (or rather, my clit is resting on _it),_ but I’m thrumming with excitement for the next step. After that’s set up, it’s time to attach the nipple clamps to the ceiling.

“Okay, Princess. Up on your toes.”

I rise all the way up on the balls of my feet and Bellamy carefully adjusts the chain as he attaches it to the rope and ceiling hook.

“Okay, Princess. Twenty minutes, starting-” he switches the vibrator on “-right now.” I see him push a button on his phone (presumably the timer). This tiptoes thing isn’t too terrible, but like Bellamy said, it will eventually become extremely uncomfortable. After a few minutes he comes up behind me, reaching around my front gently brushing the pads of his fingers around my breasts, lazily trailing them all around the globes of flesh. He’s careful not to provide any actual support, of course. I feel a shiver run through me as goosebumps erupt all over my exposed flesh. Pain shoots through me as my nipples attempt to become even more erect underneath the clover clams. The resulting groan is honestly embarrassing. Normal people would probably shriek in reaction to this kind of pain, but it’s something I come to welcome wholeheartedly. Bellamy tilts his head so his lips connect with my neck, and when I feel him smile into my skin, it’s like my soul is being embraced by his affection…

“You’re doing so good, Princess.” His fingers are trailing along my torso as he softly speaks his encouragements in my ear.

I nod, “Thank you, Sir.” My calves are starting to twitch now. I try using my arms and shoulders to lift myself up off the balls of my feet in make an attempt to achieve a “Position C” of sorts. If successful, it could afford my increasingly pained feet some relief while not tempting me to give up and give in to the vibrator perched between my legs. Unfortunately, my arms are stretched straight above my head and the positioning doesn’t allow for me to flex my arms enough…

I’m so tempted by the potential mind-blowing orgasm that awaits me if I just relax my legs. It could be _so_ worth it… I don’t really give a shit about the wall colors. My desire to see Parlor Sage paint on the walls of the office is quickly being overcome by my longing for a nipple-tortured orgasm…. I just have to last twenty minutes. _Then_ I can give in. Twenty minutes…

I can hear Bellamy’s deep voice surround me when he speaks. “I can see you thinking. Don’t do it, Clarke.” _Goddammit, quit reading my mind._

I shake my head, “I won’t give up... I can do this.” As I speak, the arches of my feet are threatening to spasm. After being clamped for so long, the intensity of the sensation on my nipples has died down considerably, so I’m considering dropping down a bit just to tighten the clamps… to “renew” the sensation. I’m more worried that I won’t be able to rise back onto my tiptoes after relaxing them. Not necessarily because of the fatigue (though it’s entirely possible they’d be too worn out), but because I don’t think I’ll be able to pull away from the stimulation once I feel it. It’ll be too good – I know that for a fact. My favorite self-induced orgasms involve nipple clamps. In fact, if I’m trying to come by myself, nipple torture is almost a requirement now. If Bellamy is around to utter sinful words into my ear, it’ll be that much better.

As I endure this torment, Bellamy steps away and walks around to stand in front of me. He just _observes_ , arms crossed over his chest, feet planted solidly on the ground. I swear, just looking at the involuntary clenching of his strong jaw muscles is sending waves of arousal through me. _Stop looking at his mouthwatering jaw line. It’s so not helping my self-control…_ His eyes are narrowed in contemplation. He doesn’t look angry or upset. He looks like he’s making mental notes for next time. _Oh god, I’m already looking forward to next time…_

“What are you feeling, Princess? Talk to me.”

I take a deep breath and grind words out through my teeth, “I’m feeling like I want to give up right now. My legs are hurting a lot more than I thought they would. And I really, really, _really_ want to come.” My words feel _weak_ as tears threaten to fall.

He shakes his head, coming up to tuck a stray hair behind my ear, “I know you do. But you’ve come _so far_. You only have seven minutes left.” He gently cups my cheek with his hand, “Don’t fail me, now.”

I nod, squeezing my eyes closed. Tears begin to roll down my cheeks as the pain becomes more intense. My calf muscles are quivering and I’m suffering through a muscle spasm on the inside of my left foot. The _abductor hallicus_ muscle of my left foot is reaching a state of tetany and it’s _agonizing._ He must sense my determination not to come down from tiptoes, because he turns off the vibrator and moves the stand out of the way so he can take up his place there. He towers over me and I feel small and protected. His close proximity is knocking my nipple chains slightly, but I’ll endure anything to feel him close to me like this. He cradles my face with his hands and wipes my tears away with his thumbs. I can feel the unquestionable adoration in his eyes, _“Clarke... You are so goddamn beautiful…_ ” He searches my face like he’s memorizing the details. _“You’re fucking breathtaking like this.”_ I am continually taken aback by Bellamy’s attentiveness when I’m taking pain. I feel safe, and loved. He affords me a sense of _tranquility_.

This has taken a different turn. The game is all but forgotten as I close my eyes and rest my forehead against his chest. I want more… _“Bell, pull on them._ ” Without missing a beat he reaches up and pulls taut the rope attached to the nipple chain. I cry out in pain, but he holds me close as I embrace the agony. As I sob, each shudder of my body seems to result in a tightening of the clover clamps. I feel him laying kisses on my head, stroking my hair and whispering soothing encouragements.

When the timer goes off, he tilts my chin up and I meet his warm gaze. He smiles proudly, “You did it, Princess… You did it.” I nod, smiling back, then drop my head to lean against his chest again and he holds me close. I’m still on tiptoes, but it’s time to come down. As I flatten my feet, the clamps start to tighten again, but I feel Bellamy loosen the slack quickly. The chains are still suspended, but no longer pulling taut.

I think for a moment on the words I’m going to say… “ _I want more, Bell.”_ He breathes deeply as he runs his fingers through my hair. He cups my face again and pulls back so he can see my face.

“How much more?” His brows are furrowed as he searches my face.  

I close my eyes for a moment before opening them again. I meet his gaze and whisper, _“Everything. Take me to my limit._ ”

He nods with a thick swallow, “Give me your word.”

I give him a small smile, “Cherries, Sir.”

He’s stroking my cheeks with his thumbs again, “What do you want me to use?”

“The strap.” We’ve used the strap only twice before. Bellamy limited it to under ten strikes both of those times. The pain is intense – like _mouthwateringly_ intense. He uses the belt frequently, but the belt is composed of a much thinner layer of leather. The strap is a thick piece of leather, which is about as _wide_ as a belt (approximately two inches), but in this case twice as thick. It has a “handle” at one end that allows him to maneuver the instrument easily so he can land blows exactly where he wants them. The long length of a belt can sometimes make the landing unpredictable.

He nods, “Okay. If we’re going to use that, I’m going to disconnect you from the ceiling and move you over to the edge of the bed, okay?” I nod in reply and he deftly unfastens the ropes connecting my cuffs and nipple chains to the ceiling rings. He walks us over to the bed and tells me to take a seat. Then he takes my hands in his and starts to untie the rope cuffs, but I stop him.

“No, leave them.” Bellamy smiles gently, bringing my wrists to his lips and kissing them softly. After he releases my hands, he walks across the room and comes back with a bottle of water, telling me to drink the entire bottle. I comply readily, knowing that we’re about to do a heavy beating scene and I will be sweating profusely…

“You’re sure this is what you want?”

I nod, running my fingers over the thick strip of leather. “Yes, Sir.”

“This is going to leave serious welts. And bruises. A lot of them.”

I breathe deeply and nod again, “I know. I’m ready.”

He smiles, standing me back up and pulling me close to him and kissing my temple, “I know you are, Princess.” He releases me from the hug and continues after a moment, “I want you to start by standing at the bedside, spread your feet a little more than shoulder-width apart, and bend over slightly while hanging on to the edge of the mattress. You’ll offer your beautiful, unblemished ass to me.”

“Okay.” I start to pivot to face the bed but he stops me

“Wait, there’s more.” I nod for him to continue. “It will get exhausting to stay upright. When that happens, use the bed – drape yourself over the side of the mattress.” We’re paused for a few moments before he adds, “Do you want a predetermined number of strikes?”

I shake my head, “No. Keep giving them to me until I call my safe word.”

He nods, “Or if you don’t respond with check-ins.”

“Or that.”

“Do you want a warning for the first one? Like a one-two-three?”

I shake my head again, “No. Just give them to me when you think it’s time.

“Okay, Princess. Face the bed and bend forward.” I do as he commands, digging my fingers into the sheets. He massages my thighs and my ass, prepping my flesh for impact play. After several minutes of massage, he picks up the strap.

This has become a much more spiritual experience than either of us anticipated. The edge of my pain limit is a profound psychological emotional barrier and I couldn’t have a more devoted guide to this new place.

I watch in the mirror as Bellamy pulls his wrist back and strikes the strap against my ass. It’s not soft, and it stings, but it can definitely be harder. He lands a few more medium-intensity strikes. I wince just slightly in response, “Harder, please.”

He nods and the next one is hard enough to make a startling _CLAP!_ against my flesh, which is lit up like a live-wire. I groan in response, digging my fingernails into the sheets.   Pain shoots through my body, from my tits to my toenails, as my nipples harden under the clover clamps, just like they did when I was suspended earlier. It’s _painful_ … _pleasurable_ … bordering on _peaceful_. He glances at me and I meet his gaze in the mirror, giving him a nod to keep going. I drop my head and it hangs between my arms as he lands more blows and the sound of the leather meeting my skin produces a splendid _CRACK!!_ that reverberates in my ears each time.

I’m groaning and gasping with each _WHACK_ that connects with my skin. My mouth is watering and tears are streaming down my cheeks when I lift my head back up to glance at Bellamy in the mirror attain. I can feel the heat in his gaze, his desire intensifying with each blow. I know the strikes are making welts, stripes across my ass and thighs. The blood rises to the upper layer of my skin, increasing my sensitivity. I feel the sweat beading on my skin and I can see that his face is covered with a sheen of sweat as well. He pauses momentarily to pull his t-shirt off, and _holy fuck_ his body is _delectable_. His abs flex as he pulls his shirt over his head and muscles ripple as his torso curves when he reaches over to toss the shirt toward the closet. My groan is loud and unabashed when I’m treated to this image and he looks at me, concerned for a moment, until he realizes I’m making these sounds because I’m so turned on by _him._ Looking proud of himself, his torso expands with a deep breath. He picks the strap back up.

He looks at my eyes through the mirror, “You good to keep going?”

I nod, “Yes, please.”

“Give me your word, Princess.”

“Cherries, Sir.”

He nods, uttering a particularly effective “ _Good Girl”_ before he raises his arm, strap in hand.

I roar an appreciative groan before the strap even makes contact with my ass, and it evolves into a full-blown scream when he hits me. The muscles of his arms twitch as he relaxes. _“More, please_.” He nods his head, raising his hand higher and bringing it down fast and hard. _CRACK!!_ I don’t know how many blows I’ve endured yet, and I’m not at my limit yet, but he was right when he said it would get exhausting to stay upright. I let myself fall onto the mattress after he lands a strike, allowing myself to relax into the mattress. The jostling of the nipple chains as my chest sinks into the mattress is shockingly painful, but I embrace it with the rest of the agony I endure. Before he can ask for my word, I give it to him. _“Cherries… More, please.”_

The blows come raining down over my ass, my hamstrings, outer thighs, inner thighs a few times. I don’t bother to suppress my cries as each strike pulls me farther into the undulating blend of pleasure and pain. My thoughts just _vacate_ as I slip into an incomprehensible place, a place where _nothing_ exists except the tranquility and serenity Bellamy is giving me…

 

I give in to _oblivion_ …

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ! 
> 
> This chapter is a little more intense than the rest... So, I'm interested to know what you guys think. 
> 
> REVIEWS have been seriously motivating, and I'm so appreciative of the ones you guys have been leaving!! PLEASE Keep them coming! (And KUDOS make me smile!)


	35. purity coursing through my veins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bellamy's experience with Clarke's pain exploration... 
> 
> Plus some A+ aftercare by Bellamy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, THANK YOU GUYS so much for your feedback - it really is wonderful to hear everything you guys have to say :) 
> 
> Please, keep the reviews coming - COMMENTS + KUDOS give me fuel to get chapters out quickly. 
> 
> Sorry this chapter in particular took longer than usual - I'm not a Dom, so I wanted some more input to describe "Dom-space" in more detail (rather than the brief description in previous chapters). I had to talk with some friends and get their take on it all. Thank you for your patience :) 
> 
>  
> 
> *TRIGGER WARNINGS*  
> \- Heavy Pain  
> \- Erotic Beatings  
> \- Anal play

[Bellamy POV]

There came a point when this “game” of ours became unexpectedly profound. If I had to choose a moment when it all changed, I think it was a little under fifteen minutes into the tiptoe challenge, when Clarke began to verbalize her uncertainty as to whether she could continue. I felt this _draw_ to her. I knew she could keep going. I knew she had it in her, and it meant the world to me that she believed me. She _tried_ , and even if she hadn’t succeeded, the earnestness with which she endeavored was tremendously moving.

Clarke didn’t ask why I moved the vibrator out of the way, but my reasoning was very specific. I could see she was pushing herself, striving to reach a target. It wasn’t about the game anymore. There wasn’t a point in keeping the vibrator there because I knew she wouldn’t give in anyway. It was more than that, though. I wanted to be close to her, to touch her. I wanted to hold her, share this with her. When she rested her head on my chest, a flood of emotion coursed through me. It was sudden… Intense… Visceral... Not knowing what to do with all of it, I settled for caressing her hair. I didn’t want to diminish her feats – she was so close to reaching her objective, so I didn’t hold her up. I wanted to. _God_ , I wanted to pull her into me and never let her go, but I stopped myself. I wanted her to be able to look back at the end and know she did it on her own. So instead I stepped close to her, cradling her head in my hands and just taking her in. Talking her through it, telling her how incredibly beautiful she is. I could feel her peace through her tear-filled eyes...

And it was _fucking beautiful_.

 

* * *

 

So here we are, close to the end her twenty-minute goal, and she asks me to pull on the chains for her. I don’t even have to ask why. I know what she needs and I’m going to give it to her. She breaks out into more sobs, crying out as I hold her face to my chest, letting her weep into my shirt. We crave each other’s touch. I stroke her hair and kiss her head, careful not to jostle her or cause her any more pain than I already have. That’s our dynamic – I will hurt her only as much asks for, and only _when_ she asks for it. Allowing me to give her pain is a gift she’s bestowed upon me. The flip side of her gift is that she gives it with the expectation that I will keep her safe while I indulge her cravings.

When the timer finally goes off, I feel this rush of pride for her. She pushed through her self-doubt, past the temptation (and _oh_ , what a temptation it was), and into triumph. She’s shaking and crying, embracing the physiological evidence of the difficulty she has endured. I loosen the slack on the nipple chains, allowing her to come off of her tiptoes and everything comes to a peaceful pause.

Then she speaks again. “ _I want more, Bell.”_

I pull her away so I can see her face. “How much more?”

_“Everything… Take me to my limit.”_

My breath catches in my throat when Clarke whispers those words to me. I promised her months ago that when she was ready, I would give this to her if she asked. My heart falls into a crazy rhythm as I consider the weight of her plea. I nod, asking her for her check-in word. When she utters _cherries_ , I feel a tightness in my chest and a palpable deepening of my devotion to her.

Clarke asks me to use the “strap,” an instrument suitable only for pain. A crop can be fun. A flogger can be sensual. The strap? Pain is its _only_ purpose. She’s not being a “brat” who wants a “funishment.” She wants to explore pain in the deepest possible way, and she’s trusting me to guide her there. _And guide her I will…_

I disconnect her from the ceiling and walk her to the side of the bed. I begin to untie her wrist cuffs, but she stops me, asking me to leave them on. I know Clarke likes to be tied up for her beatings, because it allows her to “let go and experience it” (her words). When she’s tied up for floggings or beltings, I make it a point _not_ to exhaust her. I push her, but not to her _limit_. Clarke is highly susceptible to subspace, and I don’t want her to fall limp with her wrists still suspended. Leaving the cuffs on is a compromise of sorts for her.

The image of a tied-up Clarke, waiting for me to bestow pain upon her, is something that turns me on to an uncomfortable degree. I pause for a few moments, wrapped up in my own head, trying to reconcile the sick parts of me that are so perversely turned on by Clarke’s helplessness with the parts of me that are appalled by my desire to see her this way… I walk to the other end of the room to get a water bottle, taking the opportunity to compose myself. When I return to her, I hand her the water bottle, instructing her to drink it down. This will be a physical exertion for both of us, especially for her. I have to steady my mind again as I think about how she’ll be drenched in sweat while I rain blow upon blow to the flawless, tender skin of her ass and thighs...

I bring the strap back with me and ask Clarke if she’s sure this is what she wants. My cock stirs as she runs her fingers along the strap. This will mar her skin in _such_ a beautiful way. I sigh as I close my eyes and think of the physical ramifications of what she wants. I warn her of the welts and bruises that are unavoidable, and she takes a deep breath before nodding and confirming her desire for them.

_“I’m ready.”_

Fuck, I know she’s ready. I hold her close to me as I reflect on the fact that she has _been_ ready for this for a while – longer than I have. Tonight, I’ve finally caught up in a big way.

Clarke patiently absorbs the instructions I give her – how I want her to stand, why I’m having her at the bedside. I am struck by the fact that Clarke is giving me more control than ever – rather than enduring a set number of hits (like usual), she asks me, “ _Keep giving them to me until I call my safe word.”_ It’s another indication of her desire to embrace this. Generally, she almost always wants a warning at the beginning before I land the first strike, but tonight she’s leaving it up to me. _“Give them to me when you think it’s time.”_ I don’t exactly know why, but this stirs something inside of me. Her wrists remain bound as she anchors herself on the edge of the mattress. As I start massaging the skin on her ass and thighs, I start thinking about how my ministrations are readying her tender skin for impact.

I pick up the strap, holding it in my hands as I feel myself _connect_ with my instrument.

I gaze at the beautiful woman presenting herself to me, her flawless skin awaiting its perverse rewards in the form of ridged stripes and welts, giving way to lasting bruises as evidence of its endurance. After allowing myself a few moments to absorb the image in front of me, I flick my wrist back, then strike the strap against her skin. It’s not a hard hit, just enough to warm her up, so to speak. I smack it against her flesh a few times at that same strength, allowing her body to become accustomed to the sensation of the leather.

 _“Harder, please”_                                                                                                      

I give a nod and take a deep breath, pulling my arm up a little higher and bringing it down onto her flesh with a jarring _CLAP_. I stifle a groan as she releases a throaty moan, clawing her fingers into the sheets as her body tenses, then quickly relaxes. I wait a moment before landing the next blow, pausing until I can get a read on her face through the mirror. She looks up and catches my eye immediately, nodding for me to continue. As I land the next blows, she drops her head down. I am feeling increasingly aroused, getting a sick satisfaction from the pain I can hear in her cries… I feel my mouth water as I take in the curves of her body, from the soft bends outlining her tits and ass to the graceful arc of her neck as her head hangs between her strong but lithe arms.

The strikes are methodical, leaving a hypnotizing array of stripes and welts in their wake. Soon, both of us are dripping with sweat from our exertions so I pause a moment to strip my shirt off. The cool air hitting my sweat-soaked skin causes my skin to erupt in gooseflesh. When she picks her head back up and catches my gaze again, I am mesmerized by the desire in her eyes. Tears flow freely out of them, but nothing can camouflage the sheer _hunger_ behind them.

After checking in again, I resume, with renewed resolve to connect with Clarke on a deep, primal level. With each successive blow, my senses are heightened, my perception magnified, as if time has slowed down. I feel a _purity_ coursing through my veins, and I develop a singular desire to do everything in my power to deliver this purity to Clarke. My focus intensifies, and I am overcome by the realization that everything is lining up exactly as it’s supposed to. She falls forward onto the bed, and before I can even ask if she’s still with me, she gives me her word, _Cherries…_ and asks, _“More, please_. _”_

I feel a profound, unfathomable connection between myself and Clarke. This goes deeper than anything I’ve felt with anyone, _ever_. My mind feels bonded to her, like there’s an open current between us. Every cell in my body is perfectly attuned to her. I continue to land the strap over her skin – generously marking the fleshy parts of her ass and hamstrings, taking care not to neglect the sides of her thighs. She’ll feel every fucking bit of this tomorrow, and possibly for a week to come…

Her agonized cries give way to satisfied groans and it is clear she is reaching a deep, vast inner tranquility. I’ve carried her into _subspace_. This, right here, is _monumental_ for Clarke, as it’s the first time she’s gotten there purely with pain. In contrast to other subs I’ve worked with, who could _only_ reach subspace through pain, Clarke has always managed to creep there in the throes of pleasure. I can’t help but wonder if this will feel different for her this time.

It dawns on me that I haven’t checked in on her, so I halt the blows. “Princess, give me your word.”

Nothing.

No response to the squeeze test, either.

I look down at her and I’m quickly horrified by the darkening purple bruises that are developing on her pale skin. _Fuck..._ I drop the strap on the bed next to her and inspect her marks. No broken skin or bleeding, nothing immediately alarming. When I gently place my hands over the beautiful stripes and marks, I find that heat is radiating from her marred flesh, but it isn’t any worse than what I usually encounter after impact play, so I’m not alarmed by it. I move up her body to her head, sweeping her hair out of her face so I can get a better look in her eyes. She’s got a confused but peaceful expression on her face as she begins to register that the beating has stopped. After a few moments, she slowly asks, “Why’d you stop?

I smile, brushing her cheek with my thumb, “You weren’t responding to check-ins.”

After some delay, she follows up with “ _Oh_ …”

I get to work untying Clarke’s wrist cuffs, softly speaking encouragements in her ear. “You did so good, Princess. _So_ _good_ … _You’re so fucking amazing…_ ” I detach the nipple clamps and she releases an enthusiastic groan in response to the sudden return of blood flow to the abused nubs. It’s painful as hell, I know, but she’s got so many morphine-like endorphins flooding her system from the night’s activities that her pain tolerance has skyrocketed.

She’s _soaked_ in sweat, and I know she doesn’t appreciate being in bed when she’s “all sticky.” She had an idea when we moved in to try drawing a bath and soaking together after a scene (mainly because the bathtub at our place is fucking amazing – it’s a deep Jacuzzi tub that takes up an entire corner of the bathroom). I told her I was down with the idea as long as safety wasn’t compromised – she has to be able to walk with me into the bathroom and sit up without support. (Nothing would fuck up an aftercare session like drowning…)

After wrapping Clarke in a soft blanket (because she’s already shivering), I walk her into the bathroom so that we remain in close proximity to one another. I don’t want to leave her in the bedroom alone when she’s like this – if she were to suddenly “come to” and find herself alone in the room, it could lead to an instantaneous, overwhelming sense of abandonment. Also, it just makes me feel better to have her near me, especially after heavy scenes like tonight’s.

Clarke sits happily on the vanity bench, her hair twisted up into a messy bun, sipping on Gatorade while I start running the water and filling the tub, adding a very _reasonable_ amount of bubble bath (Alex “borrowed” the tub last week and pumped an inordinate amount of bubble bath into the water. This turned out to be a mistake once the jets were turned on… Clarke shrieked upon walking into the bathroom to find it so overrun with bubbles that we could no longer see the tub – the suds overflowed onto the bathroom floor and Alex was completely hidden underneath the bubbles.).

So yeah, I’ll be cloaked in a girly lavender scent after all this, but I could give two fucks about that because I’m getting to soak naked with my hot-as-hell girlfriend… I get the Jacuzzi jets running and strip the rest of my clothes off. I light some aromatherapy candles and put on some gentle music in the background before leading Clarke into the tub with me. She sits down in the water and pulls her knees up, wrapping her arms around them while I get situated. I sink in behind her so that she’s seated between my legs, then I wrap an arm around her, pulling her into me so that she’s leaning back against my chest, head resting on my shoulder. She lets her entire body relax against mine and we take some time to just _be_ together.

As we soak in the tub, we continue to transition back into “real life.” The time we take to recover after a scene is as much for me as it is for her, especially tonight. I am in awe of the tranquility that is radiating from Clarke. I’m still pulsing with energy and it feels like my heart is pumping pure vitality through my arteries. As she rests quietly against me, I can almost feel our “energies” mix together, balancing each other out as we come back down to earth... The firestorm inside of me begins to gradually dwindle, my lit-up nerves soothed by the overwhelming calmness of Clarke’s serenity.

As she starts to gain more awareness of her surroundings, Clarke starts talking to me. “Bell… that was… _something else.”_

I press a kiss to her temple, “ _You_ were something else, Clarke…” She smiles and I continue, “You were fucking incredible _._ ”

Her chest rises as she inhales deeply and a contented smile spreads across her face. “It’s never felt like that before. Everything was so beautifully connected – my mind, my sensations, my emotions – they just blended... then exploded inside of me… It was like an orgasm for my _soul_ , Bellamy.”

It feels like my heart almost jumps when she says that – _an orgasm for her soul –_ because it describes so perfectly what I want for her.

“God, Clarke… you were breathtaking. You suffered so beautifully.” I press more kisses to the side of her face, to her head, her neck. “I can’t find words right now to describe how extraordinary you were tonight.”

She closes her eyes again, as if she’s reliving it over again, “I can’t find the words either…” She lightly drags her fingers up and down my arms while she speaks, “What was it like for you, Bell?”

“It’s hard to describe. Getting to do those things to you… seeing how I affected you… it was… intoxicating.”

“Like floaty-intoxicating?”

I shake my head, “No… the opposite. I could feel _power_. Like a vindication of the arrogance that was just _coursing_ through me at that point.”

She nods, “What else?”

“Is there something specific you’re wondering about? It’s difficult to describe.”

She pauses, “What do you mean when you say ‘power’?”

I take a moment to compose my thoughts. “Control. Control over _everything_. My focus was pure, and it felt like I could make absolutely _anything_ happen… And there was _you –_ I felt more connected and bonded to you than I’ve ever felt before.”

She smiles, “I know what you mean – as I started falling into ‘oblivion’ I felt like I was melting into you... As I started to come back to reality, I had this feeling like we were… _fused._ It was so spiritual…”

I nod, smiling into her hair, “It was beautiful, Clarke.” We bask in each other for a while.

“When I’m hurting you like that, do you feel the pain the whole time?”

She nods, “Yeah…”

Clarke squeezes my arm when she feels me tense up behind her. She knows I am constantly at odds with myself over my sadism, and it’s especially difficult because it’s _her_ that I’m hurting. Even though she asks for it – begs, even – I feel so disgusted with myself for enjoying my treatment of her. How the fuck can I hurt someone that I love _so fucking much?_

She lays a kiss on my bicep. “I can _hear_ your mind reeling again, Bell... You’re not a monster.” She knows me well...

My own voice is quiet, “I hurt you… I do awful things to you.”

She cuts me off with a gentle voice, “You do those things _for_ me, Bellamy. Not _to_ me, _for_ me… And I’m so grateful it’s you who does it.”

I rest my chin on her shoulder, “I didn’t go too far?”

She shakes her head softly, “No, it didn’t.” She pauses for a moment before continuing. “And about feeling the pain… Yes, I feel it, but that’s not all I feel. I get all floaty and high, too. Which is great..."  She renews her smile at the thought "But the pain - it’s _cleansing_. It leaves me with this sense of peace.”

“How do you mean?”

“When you do those things for me, I'm able to give in and embrace these darker sides of myself. Because it’s _you,_ I feel safe and free to explore and experience quietude within myself. I wouldn’t be able to do that with anyone else. You’re doing it _for_ me. And I’m glad you get a thrill out of it. That makes me happy.”

“Yeah?”

She nods with a smile, “Yeah.”

I smile again, “That’s good, then.”

She smirks, “Yeah. It’s really good…” After a few moments, she lifts her head up to look at me and continues, “And Bellamy?”

“Hmm?”

Clarke’s voice takes on a seductive quality, “You are so fucking _hot_ when you’re dominating me.” She groans, “ _So. Fucking. Hot.”_

I chuckle, “Is that right?”

She nods and faces forward again as she closes her eyes and finds my hand with her own. She guides my hand down her abdomen toward her cunt, her breath hitching when I reach her folds.

I smirk against her skin, “Is there something you want, Clarke?”

She furrows her brows and nods, “Touch me, Bell.”

I indulge her request, parting her folds with my fingers, closing my eyes and relishing in the viscosity of the juices flowing out of her right now. “Like this?”

She nods, _“_ More…”

I dip two fingers into her warm pussy before pulling them back out.  I gently press them to her clit and I’m rewarded with a beautiful gasp. Her head falls back against my shoulder as I rub soft circles around her throbbing bundle of nerves. She reaches up and tangles her left hand into my hair, guiding my face to her neck again. I take the hint and suck lightly on the sensitive spot just below her ear. After a few minutes, I detach from her skin briefly to look down at the woman who is cradled in my arms. Her lips are parted in a perfect “O” shape as I snake my free hand up to gently graze her nipples. She flinches with a smile, and I’m reminded how incredibly sensitive they must be after all that time in the clover clamps. I continue my ministrations, gently building her up but not giving quite enough stimulation for her to come yet. She seems to be in no hurry, either. The contentment on her face is beautiful.

She gently pushes my hand away and pivots around to face me. “I want to feel you inside of me.”

I nod, “In here? Or-”

She smiles, “Yes, in here.”

I give her a smirk, moving my hands up her torso from her hips and settling around her ribcage so I can pick her up. I straighten my legs out so she can straddle me. She rests her forehead against mine, eyes closed as she strokes my cock a few times and lines me up at her entrance. She opens her eyes and I’m pretty much lost in them, our gaze unwavering as she sinks down around me.

“ _Fuck, Clarke..._ ”  She feels like fucking heaven.  We aren't fucking or even moving.  Just _being._  

She nods wordlessly, cupping the back of my head and pulling me into a searing kiss. We stay like this for a while, quietly wrapped around each other, joined together in a state of tranquil bliss…

The jets are doing wonders for my aching muscles... I’m struck with panicked concern – If _I’m_ this sore after tonight’s scene, how hard was I on Clarke?

Clarke senses something wrong and pulls away from me, “What’s going on, Bell?”

“I’m sore.”

She gently furrows her brows, “I’m sorry, Bell.”

I shake my head, “No, my soreness isn’t really bothering me. But if _I’m_ sore from the scene, I’m scared that I was way too hard on you. I didn’t hold back enough, Clarke. What if you’re hurt?”

She cups my face, “I’m not.”

"But-"

She interrupts me, "I'm _not,_ Bell.  Okay?"

I nod, “Let me take care of you, at least.”

She smiles, “Okay.”

She raises herself off of me, and a jolt of arousal bolts through me as she slides off my cock and stands up to exit the tub. She smirks with a raised eyebrow, “Should we take care of that?”

I shake my head, “Gotta take care of you first.” I stand up to follow her out of the tub, gesturing at my painfully hard cock, “ _Then_ we’ll take care of this.” I turn the jets off and disengage the drain for the tub so the water will drain.

Clarke takes two towels from the towel warmer (brilliant investment) and hands one to me, which I wrap around my waist. I sit on the side of the tub, pulling Clarke closer to me. I take another towel from the warmer and gently pat her skin dry. She rakes her fingers through my hair while I’m drying her legs, prompting me to leave soft kisses over her abdomen. After she’s adequately dry, I wrap her up in her favorite robe and we head back into the bedroom, where I have skin-soothing salves and arnica cream to help with the bruising.

I pat the bed and tell her to lay face down so I can work on her skin. She starts to remove the robe, and while I would like nothing more than to gaze at her naked body, she’s still damp, and I don’t want her to start shivering. “Leave it on for now. I would rather you stay warm.” She nods with a smile and a shoulder shrug and crawls onto the bed. I push a pillow toward her and she slides it so it’s under her head, draping her arms over the sides of it as she sinks into the mattress, resting on her stomach. I join her on the bed, bringing along the aftercare kit for her skin.

I flip the bottom of her robe up, exposing her ass and thighs. I’m simultaneously ashamed and aroused by the sight of the brutal marks already blooming into bruises so dark they almost look painted-on. I swallow the knot in my throat as I arrange the tubs of lotions next to us.

There is quiet music playing in the background, but other than that there isn’t a sound in the room. So, I’m embarrassingly startled when Clarke excitedly pipes up, “Bellamy, take some pictures – I want to see!” I huff a laugh before getting up to fetch the camera. After snapping several photos, I return to the bed. I gently massage the arnica cream into the discolored flesh of her ass and thighs. I follow it up with a salve infused with anti-inflammatory ingredients to help soothe her tender skin. She keeps making soft groans and moans that are sending shocks of arousal straight to my aching cock. She senses I’m finished with the skincare and her groans become more erotic. She rolls over on her back and unties her robe, letting the sides fall open. My gaze travels hungrily over her naked form as goosebumps erupt over her exposed skin.

“Clarke, do you have any idea what you look like right now?”

Desire is pooled in her eyes, “Tell me.”

“You’re stunning _._ ” I drag my fingers lightly along her skin, observing the way her skin twitches in the wake of my path “…and so responsive.” As I graze her abdomen, she lets her legs fall open. I smirk, “…and _eager.”_ She groans, wiggling her body in anticipation. She snakes a leg around my waist, trying to pull me closer to her. I chuckle, “… _very_ eager.” She bites her lip playfully as my fingers trail along her inner thighs, journeying to her cunt. “And you’re already _dripping wet.”_ She gasps when I part her folds, sinking two fingers into her immediately. She bucks her hips, grinding her clit into the heel of my hand.”

She whimpers, “Bell, I want you to _fuck_ me!” I tilt her chin toward me as I bend down to capture her lips with mine.

I smirk into her cheek, my voice low in her ear, “Well, since you asked…” I’m mindful of her raw skin, so I want to fuck her in a position that won’t cause too much irritation… “Hands and knees.”   She slides the robe off her arms and tosses it off the bed before assuming the commanded position. I kneel between her legs, then sink two fingers into her dripping cunt, moving them in and out a few times. Her responding mewls, along with the eager thrust of her hips urges me to get to it already… I line up my cock at her entrance, rubbing the sensitive tip over her slit a few times to gather up the copious fluids gathered there. Finally, I push in steadily, shuddering as I’m consumed by the blinding pleasure of sheathing myself completely inside of her. Once I’m fully in, I guide her to rise up to a kneeling position while I’m still inside of her, then I pull her back against my chest while I sit back on my heels. My head is reeling as her inner walls clamp down on me. _“_ You feel so fucking good around me, Clarke. _”_

She groans, “Fuck, Bell… I love when you fill me up like this.”

Now that I’m firmly inside of her, I push her forward again, this time to lay on her stomach. “Relax your body now…” I give her a large pillow to hug, “Let yourself lean forward, drape yourself over this pillow.” As she does this, I straighten her legs out, allowing them to extend behind me. The end result has Clarke basically lying stretched out on her stomach while I'm sitting on my knees between her legs, my cock sunk deep inside her. We both release appreciative groans as she relaxes into the position – it’s an erotic harmony if I ever heard one.

The strain of remaining still is too much so I start moving – gently pulling out just slightly, then pushing back in. This position doesn’t really allow for serious thrusting. Release is reached through synchronized grinding movements… I hold onto Clarke’s hips, guiding her pelvis in a circular motion that has her moaning unreservedly. She takes over, wrapping her legs around my waist to anchor herself as she continues the motion I showed her. I lean back just slightly, changing the angle slightly. Clarke has picked up the motions like a pro (always a quick learner), so I use my hands instead to massage her ass cheeks.

She whimpers, _“Bell_ … you’re teasing me…”

I chuckle, “Tell me what you want…”

She groans, _“_ Put your finger in my ass... _”_ She pauses a moment, groaning loudly as I reach back and pull some lube out of the drawer (thankfully it’s within reach right now). “Wait, no…” I halt everything, waiting for her to finish her thought. _“_ Fingers... Plural... I wanna come with both of my holes being stretched, baby… _”_ I’m impressed that she’s become far less shy about asking for anal play.

I drip lube over her puckered rosebud, massaging it gently, but not pushing in yet. Her cunt clamps down on my cock with increased strength in response to my touch. I coat a finger in the lube, then I bring it back to her ass. “Ready?”

She squeezes her thighs around me with a frustrated groan, _“_ Fuck, yes!”

I chuckle at her enthusiasm, pushing my index finger into her ass, groaning as my mind starts to go hazy when her tight sphincter clamps down around my finger. I insert it fully and she groans, _“_ Oh, _fuck_ … that’s good…”

“More?”

She nods, _“Please…”_ She tangles her fingers into the sheets and digs her forehead into the mattress. I gently pump my finger in and out, rotating it inside of her before inserting my other index finger.

She releases a full-blown growl in response, which has my dick twitching inside of her dripping wet cunt. _“OH FUCK!”_ I twist my fingers inside of her, gasping as I feel them graze my cock through the walls separating them from her cunt. I push my fingers in a downward direction, angling my cock to hit her g-spot more effectively as I keep gently thrusting inside of her. She yells out, “Ohmyfuckinggod! That feels incredible! Keep doing that!” I indulge her request, drawing more steady cries from Clarke’s wanton voice.

My voice is hoarse, _“_ Touch yourself… Play with your clit, Clarke… I wanna feel you come on my cock, baby…”

She snakes a hand underneath herself and starts rubbing circles over her clit, which quickly has her tumbling over the edge… I feel her inner walls fluttering around my cock, “Yeah, that’s it… I can feel it… Let go, Clarke… you can come for me!”

She comes completely undone, her inner walls pulsating rhythmically around my cock with incredible force. Her sphincter is clamping down forcefully around my fingers while I continue to stretch her out with them. My own thrusts become more erratic as I get closer to my own orgasm.

Clarke grinds words through her teeth, her voice wanton and desperate. “Bellamy, when are you gonna fuck my ass with your cock?!?”

 **God fucking dammit**.

As soon as she says that, I’m coming uncontrollably, _deep_ inside of her, harder than I’ve come in a long time. I can hear how unrestrained my own growls are as I spill everything I have inside of her warm, wet cunt. We’re both panting like we just ran a fucking marathon, despite this starting out as a relatively relaxing fuck.

“Holy fucking shit, Clarke… You can’t just spring that on me!”

She laughs as she turns her head up to look at me, “What, you don’t want to?”

I give her a level look, “I think you know I do…”

She bounces her hips on my now-softened cock, “Then _do it_ , Bell…”

“Fuck, Clarke – I need to recover from that.” I shake my head in disbelief, “Do you have any idea how hard I came just now?”

She nods with a smirk and an unabashed groan, “Oh yeah, I could feel it, Bellamy. I can still feel it.”

She chuckles as I pull my fingers out of her and lift her up so I can stretch my legs out. She rolls off of me and pivots her body so her head is on the pillows.  I quickly go into the bathroom to wash my hands and clean up.  She grabs tissues to clean herself up as well.  (What can I say? We appreciate hygiene.).  When I get back in the bedroom, she pats my side of the bed and I lie down, pulling her up so she’s resting her head on my chest.

“Soon, though?” She whines, _“Please?”_

I chuckle, still not quite believing what I’m hearing – she’s actually begging for anal… “Holy fuck… Yeah, Clarke. Soon _._ ”  I reach over and turn off the bedside lamp, relaxing into the pillows.

"How are you feeling, Clarke?"

"Still fantastic, Bell."

"That's good.  You know what to watch out for over the next few days, because-"

She pats my chest, "I know, subdrop."  

 _Subdrop_ can occur hours, days (sometimes even weeks) after spending time in subspace. An intense scene triggers the body's sympathetic nervous system (SNS), which releases the endorphins and other neurotransmitters that are responsible for the "floaty" subspace feelings.  They're sometimes described as "morphine-like drugs"...  After the scene ends, the SNS stops producing the morphine-like drugs, and the parasympathetic nervous system kicks in, which can leave the sub feeling exhausted and "down."  The endorphin crash can lead to psychological symptoms, as well, such as feelings of depression and melancholy.  Clarke knows all this, but I feel the need to remind her anyway.

"I know you know... Tonight was just more intense than ever, so I want to be careful."

She nuzzles into my chest, "Thanks for taking care of me, Bell." 

I squeeze my arms back around her.  "Always, Clarke." 

I feel her breathing even out as she falls asleep and I follow soon after...

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry to all those who hate anal... It's kind of a thing for Clarke. It won't be making a regular appearance, just here and there... 
> 
> As always, your COMMENTS and reviews are treasured (and motivating)! And if you haven't left KUDOS yet, please do!


	36. Zoe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pure, unadulterated domestic fluff.  
> We'll have some Alex being Alex... 
> 
> Also, Lincoln and Clarke catch up :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, THANK YOU GUYS SO MUCH for your feedback on the last two chapters. It was one of the more intense writing experiences I’ve had up to that point, so I was really pleased with the reception it got. 
> 
> As always, please keep the reviews coming – they feed my muse!  
> This chapter is a fluffy domestic chapter. I make no apologies. But, after the last two chapters, I think we could all use a little bit of a breather. Enjoy!

“I want a cat.”

Bellamy and I both look up from our lunch with looks on our faces that clearly say _what the fuck?_

I give her a curious glance, “Um, Alex… Why do you want a cat?”

Alex shrugs, “Well, I want a pet because it will instill in me a sense of responsibility. And they’re cute.”

Bellamy has a scowl, “Does it have to be a _cat?"_

Alex’s mouth twists to the side, “Well, what other kind of pet could I get?”

 _Oh, I see what she’s just done here…_ I want to warn Bellamy that he’s being set up, but I figure I’ll let this play out.

Bellamy responds, “A dog would be better.”

Alex’s smug look of satisfaction has me doubling over with laughter.

Bellamy looks at me questioningly, “What?”

Clutching my sides, I tell him I between breaths, “You just got played, Bell!”

He looks confused, “What, she wanted a cat, I suggested a dog.”

I shake my head and compose myself before I point at the folder of papers Alex is clutching, “How about you show us what’s in that folder, Alex.”

She hands it over, glaring at me with narrowed eyes, clearly not pleased that she’s been found out. I know how my daughter thinks. Bellamy opens it up and pulls out packets of papers containing information about dogs.

He frowns, trying to hide his amusement, “Fuck... I got played.” He looks over at Alex, “Why didn’t you just lead with asking for a dog?”

She pauses for a moment, trying to decide exactly how much of her methods she’s willing to reveal. After a deep breath she relents, “It’s a negotiation tactic – getting you to think it was your idea…”

He scoffs, shaking his head, “God help us all, I hope you only use your powers for good…”

She smiles, “So are you saying a dog counts as ‘good?’”

I speak up, “We’re saying it’s not a cat.”  Nothing against cats, but we're all just _dog people._  

We start flipping through the information packets Alex put together – apparently she made three copies of each so that we could each have something to look at while she discussed all of this with us.

“I want a big dog.”

Bellamy smirks, “So, not cat-sized?”

Alex rolls her eyes, “No. The opposite. I want a Great Dane.”

Bellamy snorts, “So a dog that takes _shits_ the size of cats.”

After a moment of laughter, Alex continues in a more serious tone. “The hardest thing about them is that they have shorter life spans than other breeds. But I found a breeder whose dogs have a long life span for the breed. His oldest one is 14 years old now.”

I have an alarmed look, “You spoke to this person, Alex? You can’t just talk to strangers.”

She shakes her head, “No, I contacted him through email on his website. And I didn’t use my email address, I set up a separate one specifically for this, in case it was a creep.”

“Okay, I’m curious, what email address did you make up?”

“Alex_Wants_A_Great_Dane@gmail.com”

I nod with a laugh, “Okay. So what did they say?”

“Flip to page seven – that’s where the emails start.”

Sure enough, they’ve exchanged some rather informative emails, and thankfully, Alex did a good job not giving personal information. Still, we’re going to have to have another talk to reinforce internet safety habits.

Bellamy looks amazed, “He probably thinks he was talking to an adult, not a second-grader.”

Alex shrugs, “I can’t help that I come across older on paper. Anyway, there is a puppy named Zoe. Well, she’s five months old, so she’s already very big.”

I look at the pictures she printed out, which are very clearly showing a very young puppy.

“This puppy doesn’t look five months old.”

“No, not that one. The one in the background – she’s the one I want.” She flips to a photo that is recent (based on the timestamp) where Zoe can actually be seen. She’s a sweet-looking black Dane with dark eyes and big floppy ears. Alex points out that natural ears are the European standard, and she has no desire to crop her puppy’s ears.

I shrug my shoulders, “Well, she is very pretty. But is she available?”

“Well, that’s the thing. They’re planning on keeping her.”

Bellamy nods, “Then, it doesn’t sound like she’s available.”

Alex frowns, “I think I can convince them that we would be a good home.”

I ask, skeptical of the breeder’s motivations, “Why were they going to keep her in the first place?”

Alex smiles fondly, “They fell in love with her, and she’s very sensitive, so they didn’t want to sell her to someone across the country. Apparently, vetting every prospective home was becoming too difficult. So they decided to keep her instead.”

I sigh, “So what makes you think they would change their minds for us?”

“Well, because for one thing, they are located in Colorado. They’re only like 2 hours away, so we could meet them and help them make their decision.”

Bellamy laughs, “You know that as soon as they meet Alex, it’s a done deal. They’ll give her the dog.”

Alex looks a little too proud of that. He’s right, though.

“How much does she cost?”

Alex writes a number on a piece of paper and slides it across the table to me with an obnoxious degree of drama. I open it up and my jaw practically unhinges, “Holy fucking shit, Alex! Eleven hundred dollars?!”

She looks very composed when she tells me, “His dogs are well-known to have fantastic temperaments and long life spans with none of the typical health problems that plague the breed.” She nods to herself, seemingly proud of the clearly well-practiced statement. “I would consider it making an informed investment.”

Bellamy looks at the paperwork. “What’s this puppy contract? What does that mean?”

Alex explains, “It means that if the puppy has issues, like health issues, within the first two years, they’ll replace her. It’s like a warranty, I guess.” She looks upset by this, “But I don’t know who could just ‘replace’ a dog. That’s cold.”

I nod in agreement. “I guess it’s a good-faith effort to show their confidence in their puppies. But yeah, I don’t understand how you could just ‘replace’ a dog.”

“So you’ll think about it?”

I nod, “Bellamy and I have to talk about it. And we’ll need to talk to your dad, too.”

She nods excitedly, “I’ll leave you two to talk.” Shooting us both a hopeful smile, she absconds to her bedroom.

After she’s out of hearing range, Bellamy blows out a huge breath. “So a dog…”

I smile, “I honestly don’t think it’s a bad idea.”

He grins, “Now I really want a dog.” He flips through the papers, reading about Zoe. “I want _this_ dog.”

I nod my head, “Hell, so do I.”

He stills himself and looks me in the eye, “It is frightening to know that Alex planned every bit of this.”

I nod with furrowed brows, “Yeah, I feel like my reaction is totally crafted right now. Like, I definitely just walked straight into whatever she wanted.”

Bellamy laughs, “I wasn’t kidding – I hope she only uses her powers for good. Because she’s seven years old and is already fully aware of her capabilities.”  

I feel a sense of anxiety when I think more about this. “Shit, Bell. What if she becomes a psychopath? Or ends up with a personality disorder?”

He shakes his head and puts his hand on my forearms, “I don’t think she’ll be any of those things. She’s _your_ child.” After a few moments of silence, he adds with a small laugh, “But, in case we’re still worried, having a dog to care for can help instill a sense of empathy as well as responsibility.”

I nod, “So, it’s a yes, then?”

Bellamy smiles, “I’m game if you are.”

I smile back, “Let’s do it. I’m just going to run it by Nate so he knows what’s going on. Then we’ll see about how we can get Zoe.”

Bellamy adds, “You know who would be good to talk to about this?”

“Who?”

“Lincoln. He had Great Danes growing up.”

“That’s a great idea. I’ll talk to him. Maybe we can get him to meet the dog with us.”

Bellamy nods, “Yeah. He and O are coming over for dinner tomorrow night. Perfect timing.”

 

* * *

 

O and Lincoln come over for dinner as planned. It doesn’t take long for me to bring up the dog.

“Linc, correct me if I’m wrong, but you grew up with large dogs, right?”

He smiles fondly, “I did. We had three Great Danes.”

“What was your experience with them? Like, would you recommend them for a family with a kid?”

He nods, “Is this about the dog Alex wants?”

My mouth drops open, “YOU know about this? How did you know about it before us?!”

He shrugs, “She called me a few weeks ago to ask about Great Danes. Said you guys were considering getting one.”

Bellamy and I both shake our heads, “Jesus Christ, this kid….”

I continue, “Well, she only mentioned it to _us_ yesterday. But clearly she’s had this in the works for a while.”

Lincoln looks concerned, “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize-“

I shake my head, holding my hands up in a placating manner, “No, no, you don’t need to be sorry. Thank you for answering her questions.”

Bellamy adds, “She’d actually printed out an entire packet of information she had collected on the breed, including a dossier of a specific dog she wants.”

Octavia gapes, “Seriously? She did all of that?”

I shrug, “Yeah, she seems pretty serious about it.”

Lincoln asks, “So are you guys considering it?”

Bellamy and I both nod, “Yeah, we think so. It would be nice to get a dog for the house, now that we’re settling down, you know?”

Lincoln nods, “I loved growing up with mine. Danes are gentle giants.”

“So they’d be good with the kids?”  

Octavia raises an eyebrow, “Kids? Is there something you’re not telling us?”

I snort a laugh, “No, no, no… Not yet. I just don’t want to get attached to a dog only to have to get rid of it because it won’t handle babies well, you know?” Octavia is still studying me, so I reaffirm with a light laugh, “My womb is empty, O. There are no babies inside of me. _Future_. We’re talking about the future.”

Octavia relents after a few moments, “Okay. I believe you.”

I catch Bellamy shooting her a brotherly warning glare, so I rest my hand on his forearm to calm him down.

Lincoln interrupts, “Well, my experience with Danes was that they were wonderful with my younger brothers and I. They can be very protective of the family, so they might not be overly friendly with adult newcomers. Their reactions will feed off of your reactions. So, if you’re warm and friendly with someone, they’re usually the same. But if you’re uncomfortable with someone, the dog might subtly keep themselves between you and the other person.”  

“Do you think it would get along with other dogs okay? Like, down the road?”

Lincoln nods, “Yeah, I mean, ours got along with every dog they met. So long as they’re socialized well in their youth, they should be good.”

I nod, “What was your favorite thing about them?”

He has a deep smile on his face, usually reserved for Octavia, “That’s a hard one – there are many great things about them.”

“Okay, no need to choose just one – what were your favorite things?”

Lincoln is still smiling, “Well, their size is intimidating, but they are so gentle and loving. And they can be really unexpectedly silly. Actually, once you get to know the breed, the silly thing _is_ expected. But they do some really hilarious things simply because they don’t often know how huge they are…” He pauses a few moments, “I liked napping with them when I was a kid. My parents had photos of me curled up with our dogs, sleeping with my head on the chest of one of them, our limbs all tangled together.”

I smile, “Awwwww.” I’m picturing Lincoln as a little kid curled up with a dog. Somehow, in my mind, even kid-Lincoln is muscled-out and tattooed.

Lincoln nods thoughtfully, “I think you would really like having a Great Dane, Clarke.”

Bellamy scoffs playfully, “Just Clarke?”

Lincoln rolls his eyes, “You too, of course. But I think you’d get along with just about any dog. Clarke is more particular.”

I nod, “That is true, Bell. I don’t think I’ve seen you come across a dog who didn’t like you, or vice versa. I, on the other hand, have plenty of dogs I don’t like.”

Bellamy throws his hands up in amusement, “Is it really my fault that every, and I quote, ‘yappy little dog’ tends to take its frustrations out by barking at you every time it sees you?”

I shake my head with an eye roll, “No, it just speaks to the fact that small dogs hate me.” I turn to Octavia, “There was a dog in my old apartment complex, this shrill little Chihuahua, and it would just _shriek_ at me every time I saw it – getting the mail, out on a walk, whatever. It saw me and it would be yip-yip-yipping at me constantly. But Bellamy? That dog _loved_ Bellamy. It was ridiculous.”

Bellamy shrugs his shoulders, “What can I say, I’m a likeable guy.”

I redirect the conversation back to the topic at hand, “Lincoln is right – I think I have more particular personality traits in terms of dogs I would get along with. He knows me pretty well.” I look back at Lincoln, “Do you think you could go with us to meet this breeder down in Colorado Springs?”

He nods, “I’d be happy to.”

Octavia grins at me, “Road trip!”

Bellamy rolls his eyes, “We’re talking about a two-hour drive, O.”

She shoots him a glare, “I’m still calling it a road trip.”

I clap my hands together, “Road trip, it is!”

 

* * *

 

Two weeks after that dinner, Lincoln and I are driving down to Colorado Springs in my SUV, followed by Bellamy, Alex, and Octavia in O’s sensible Honda. We have been in contact with the breeder Alex contacted, and if all goes well, we will bring Zoe home today. Lincoln and Octavia got in touch with the breeder as well, and they are planning on bringing home two puppies themselves. I was surprised that they were getting puppies, given that Octavia’s pregnant, but they said that they want the babies and the puppies to grow up together, and Lincoln feels confident about handling them all. Octavia isn’t due for several more months, so they have time to get the dogs settled in before the babies arrive.

When we left, Alex rode in the SUV with Lincoln and me so that Bellamy and Octavia could have some sibling bonding time. But, at a restroom break requested by Octavia a mere hour into the drive (“I have children sitting on my bladder! Sue me!”), Alex informed me that “You guys are so boring. I’m riding with Auntie O and Bellamy.”

It gave Lincoln and I a chance to catch up, which was nice (and way overdue).

“How have you been holding up?”

He shrugs, “Overall, things are good.”

I smile, “I’m glad. You excited about the babies?”

A warm smile stretches across his face, “Absolutely. Nervous, too. I mean, it’s scary – the pregnancy complications.”

I nod, “Yeah I can only imagine. But she’s in great hands.”

He nods, “I know that. I can’t thank you enough, Clarke, for being there when O had to get that news. She told me how you kept her together until I got back.”

I give him a smile, “I’m really glad I was able to be there, too. Obviously you would have been the better choice – you’re her husband and partner through all of this – but I was glad to fill in for you. I think I’m an okay consolation prize.”

He laughs, “Clarke, you’re good people.”

“So are you, Lincoln. You’re my people.”

He has a thoughtful smile, “That’s good. I just want to make sure you know, my loyalties are not with Lexa.”

I frown, “I know that now. I was scared those years ago when I left. I feel like I may have become extra cold toward you because you grew up with Lexa, so I figured that must have meant she had some sort hold over you. It wasn’t fair to assume that, though.” I feel a stab of guilt when I think about how I went from considering Lincoln a close friend to giving him an icy shoulder as soon as things with Lexa took a turn. “I’m so sorry, Linc. Really.”

He nods, “Bygones…”

After a few moments of companionable silence I continue, “I’m glad we’re back in each other’s lives now. _Especially_ now, with O.”

He blows out a deep breath, “I’ll be honest. I’d be terrified if we didn’t have you. Truthfully, I’m still terrified.”

I put a hand on his shoulder and give it a reassuring squeeze, “As a doctor, I can’t sit here and promise you everything will be fine. But I can tell you that her best chance is with me and my colleagues. And I’ll do everything in my power to make sure she and the babies are okay.”

He nods “I know that. Thank you, Clarke.”

“Of course…” Changing the subject just slightly, “So, I heard Octavia’s version of the big reveal, tell me your side.”

He laughs, “Well, she said it was your idea, actually.”

I nod, “Yup. So did you like the dress?”

He smiles fondly at the memory, “She was breathtaking.” Then he laughs, “It was funny, though. I saw the bump almost as soon as she came downstairs, but I kept my mouth shut because I value my limbs and if she wasn’t pregnant she would’ve ripped them off and beat me to death with them for pointing out her weight gain.”

I crack up, “Yeah, she’s a force to be reckoned with. I would hate to be on the receiving end of her wrath.”

He continues his story, “When she was physically bumping me with her stomach, clearly annoyed I hadn’t said anything about it, I finally got the hint. Or really, confirmation that she was pregnant.”

I smile, “Is that when you got all sweet about it?”

He smirks, “If by “sweet” you mean broke down crying, then yes.”

“When she told me you spun her around and rested your forehead on her belly before saying a single word, I had like, tears in my eyes. It was so fucking sweet, Linc.”

He grins, “We’re happy.”

“I’m so happy for you guys.”

He nods, “Thanks, Clarke.”

“Besides the pregnancy part, how are you feeling about fatherhood?”

He shakes his head with a dry laugh, “Completely unprepared. And the fact that there are two of them is not reassuring. We can’t even screw up the first kid and hope for a better second kid, because numbers one and two are coming side by side.”

I bark out a laugh, “You know you have nothing to worry about on that front, right? I mean, I’ve always told Bellamy that I thought you and Octavia will make awesome parents – your kids are gonna rock, Lincoln.”

He nods, “Octavia has this covered, for sure. She’s going to be awesome.”

“No shit. She’s a damn warrior. Are you going to find out if it’s boys or girls?”

He shrugs, “I think that’s still up in the air. We’re still deciding if we want the genders to be a surprise.”

I nod, “Well, what do _you_ want?”

He laughs, “I think I’d like to find out. Find out how totally screwed I am. Because if it’s two girls, I’m totally fucked.”

I bark out my own laugh, “Can you imagine? Three Octavias?”

He nods, “I can. And I’d be so screwed.”

“Yeah, you would. Do you have a preference?”

“Well, I feel more confident with boys, having grown up with younger brothers. But, I think O wants girls. Really, I don’t think I have an actual preference.”

I smile, “Yeah. I thought I wanted Alex to be a boy, because girls are the worst. I remember being at the sonogram appointment and I’m like ‘I hope it’s a boy.’ Then they said ‘it’s a girl!’ and I was like ‘Yay! It’s a girl!’ I realized it didn’t matter _at all_ whether it was a boy or a girl.”

He smiles, but somehow still manages to look serious. “That’s good. So, about the dog – how are you feeling about it?”

I laugh, “Well, I’m actually looking forward to it. I can’t believe I didn’t think about it before.”

“Maybe think about it as a practice run for parenthood with Bellamy.”

“I think we’re a little beyond a practice-run. We’ve already had a lot of conversations about parenting.”

“You guys will be good parents, too.”

I nod, “I think so. Before Alex, I would have doubted my own parenting skills. But I know I’m a kick-ass mom. And I have no doubt about Bellamy being a good father.”

He shakes his head, “I wouldn’t have doubts about either of you. Do you guys think you’ll be trying for it any time soon?”

I shrug, “I don’t know. This is probably TMI, but my IUD doesn’t expire for a little over two years. But I’d be 35 by then. I don’t know that I want to wait that long. That’s when my eggs officially start to get old.”

“ _Can_ you get pregnant before then? Like, that can be removed, right?”

I nod, “Of course. It’s totally reversible birth control. It’s just a lot to think about.”

He nods, “It’s probably something to talk to Bellamy about.”

“Yeah, we’ve talked about it. Still, you’re a nice sounding board.”

“Well, then I’m glad to help.”

We sit in companionable silence for a while as we get closer to our destination. I start getting regular updates from Octavia.

**_You aren’t going to believe what Alex is saying right now_ **

**_Somehow, I don’t think much can surprise me_ **

**_Good point. But this shit is priceless.  
I haven’t seen Bell squirm this much in his seat, like ever _ **

**_What I wouldn’t give to be a fly on the wall right now_ **

I send a preemptive apology text to Bellamy.

**_I’m sorry in advance for whatever Alex is putting you through_ **   
**_Octavia said she’s making you squirm_ **   
**_I’m feeling a mixture of concern, amusement, and curiosity._ **

I don’t hear back from him, but I assume that’s because he’s driving.

 

* * *

 

We pull up to the address and I can see Alex in the other car, barely containing herself. On the outside, the child is composed and calm, but I can see the anticipation in her eyes. A friendly-looking middle-aged couple comes out to greet us as we get out of the vehicles, and Alex immediately approaches them to introduce herself.

“I’m Alex Griffin-Findlay, and you must be Louis and Penny.”

They look impressed with her, introducing themselves in return. “And _you’re_ the one who first emailed us?”

Alex nods with a big smile and introduces the rest of us, starting with me. “This is my mom, Clarke.” As I shake their hands, Alex continues, “This is Bellamy, my mom’s partner, who lives with us and will be my step-dad at some point if he and mom get their act together.” While my jaw drops through the floor at her bluntness, Alex continues with the introductions without missing a beat, as if she _didn’t_ just call Bellamy and I out on marriage plans (or lack thereof). “This pregnant lady is my Auntie Octavia, and the big guy there is her husband, Lincoln. I call him Uncle Linc, and he grew up with Great Danes. But I understand you guys have spoken already.” I notice Octavia is _beaming_ at Alex after her little quip about Bellamy and I getting our act together.

We make some small talk with Penny and Louis, and they direct us inside to meet Zoe. As Alex and Lincoln converse with Penny and Louis, I whisper to Bellamy with a laugh, “What the hell did you guys talk about in the car?”

He shakes his head, “Oh god… too much. Do you realize that she’s expecting siblings, like plural? And soon?”

I laugh, dropping my head to his shoulder, “Christ… I thought a dog would quell those kinds of needs for her for a while. That’s what people do before they have kids, right? Get a dog? Fuck…”

He nods his head, “Yeah, she spent the last hour of the trip trying to sell me on the idea of impregnating you immediately.”

My eyes are probably as wide as saucers at this point, “Did she actually use the word _impregnate_?”

He nods with a laugh, “Yeah, in various forms. She was curious as to why you’re not already pregnant, given that, and I quote, ‘you guys have sex a lot, I assume.’ She proceeded to suggest that, since you aren’t pregnant yet, my sperm count might be low, and perhaps I should see a doctor about it.”

I close my eyes and feel the heat on my face as it takes on a furious shade of red, “Oh. My. God. Bellamy, I’m so sorry.”

He cracks up, “Amazingly, it’s not even the most uncomfortable conversation I’ve had with her.”

I raise my eyebrows, “Please, elaborate.”

He shakes his head, “Mid-summer, she asked when we were getting married. It was before you and I even talked about it.”

I nod and twist my mouth to the side, “Technically, we still haven’t talked about marriage. We talk about kids and the future and growing old. But we haven’t actually discussed marriage.”

He brings his hand to scratch the back of his neck, looking almost sheepish. “Yeah… We probably should talk about that.”

I shrug, “We _do_ tend to do things in kind of an ass-backward manner…” I squeeze his hand, which has found its way to mine, “Let’s put a pin in it and return to the topic at hand, which is the dog.”

Speaking of the dog… We make our way into the living room and Zoe is sitting in the middle of the floor, chewing on an empty water bottle. Apparently empty water bottles are her favorite toys (yay for inexpensive simplicity). As soon as Alex lays eyes on Zoe, it’s love at first sight and I know that there’s no way we’re leaving here without this dog. After getting the “okay” to approach Zoe, Alex gets to her knees in front of her. Zoe looks a little confused as to why there are new people in the living room. She isn’t defensive, nor does she seem to be upset. She’s just curious, and particularly interested in the small human kneeling in front of her. Alex puts her hands out and Zoe tentatively sniffs them, then licks Alex’s fingers. Alex giggles and Zoe does something that looks like a “head nod” for dogs, then uses her nose to flick her water bottle toy to Alex. Zoe rises up on all fours, and I gasp at how incredibly tall this puppy already is. She nudges Alex playfully, and Alex picks up the water bottle for Zoe, beginning a compact game of ‘fetch’ in the living room.

Bellamy’s arms are around me and he squeezes them, “You doing alright?”

I frown, “Of course, why?” He brings his thumb up to wipe away a tear that I didn’t realize had fallen. “Oh. It’s just so sweet.”

He nods with a smile, “I think we are witnessing the beginning of a beautiful bond.”

I nod, leaning into him while we let Alex and Zoe continue to play. Alex leads Zoe over to me and I crouch down to meet her. I’m greeted immediately with slobbery kisses to the face, which earns laughs from around the room. Unsurprisingly, she loves Bellamy instantaneously, and a series of “awwww’s” breaks out when she tries to sit in his lap. This dog already has an awesome personality, and I’m pretty sure we’re all already in love.  

Louis remarks with a smile, “I’ve never seen Miss Zoe take to new folks like this before.”

Penny looks like her heart is squeezing just a bit and she wipes a tear from her eye, “I didn’t think we’d actually be okay to let Zoe go… But look how much she already loves you guys!”

This of course gets me crying a little bit, and Octavia starts to shed tears. She laughs while wiping her own tears, “Don’t mind me. Blame the babies, hormones, all that shit.”

Louis pipes up, “Lincoln and Octavia, would you like to meet your girls?”

Octavia’s face is glowing, “Yes! Please!”

Louis and Penny’s two kids come in, each carrying a squirmy puppy – one is a harlequin (white and black) and the other is a brindle, and they are both fucking adorable. I thought Alex would be more interested in the puppies, but she has eyes only for Zoe. She gave the puppies a quick hug each, but quickly went back to “her baby.”

We end up staying there for several hours while contracts were drawn up and the families all got to know each other better, and I’m really glad Alex found these guys. I am genuinely excited about bringing home the newest member of our family.

 

* * *

When we brought Zoe into her new house, she was understandably nervous. On the trip home, she was cuddled up with the puppies in the back of the SUV while Alex kept a watchful eye over all of them. When we got home, Lincoln and Octavia took their puppies with them when they departed, letting Zoe say goodbye to them (reassuring her, as best as we could, that she’d see them again soon). Alex led her into the house, and hilarity ensued.

The first and most startling difference for Zoe was that our downstairs was made up entirely of hardwood flooring. Her too-long limbs did not mix gracefully with a floor that was much more smooth and slippery than she was used to. I unsuccessfully attempted to stifle my laughter when the poor dog’s feet gave way and she ended up in a flattened pile of limbs as she attempted to walk nervously across the kitchen. Zoe looked so embarrassed, and Alex shot me the nastiest glare for laughing at her. I got down on the floor and apologized to Zoe, giving her kisses and hugs. It took a little while for her to get used to it, but by the end of the evening, she was more sure-footed when walking on our floors.

The next obstacle was encountered when we introduced Zoe to the stairs. She was _terrified_ of them. Originally, the plan was for Zoe’s crate to be in Alex’s room so she could sleep there at night. Unfortunately, there was no way we were going to get Zoe to willingly traverse the stairs tonight. So, Alex declared that she would sleep in the guest room downstairs until we resolved Zoe’s stair-phobia.

Watching Alex get ready for bed tonight was ridiculously adorable – she spoke to Zoe the whole time, explaining that “this is how we get ready for bed every night,” and “Once you understand that stairs aren’t scary, you’ll get to see my room, which is the best room in the whole house…” At bedtime, Alex sat in Zoe’s crate with her and read her stories from the Mythology anthology Bellamy gave her all those years ago. When I went back in to check on them half an hour later, Alex was asleep in the crate with Zoe, curled up around her puppy, both of their heads resting peacefully on a pillow that Alex must have moved inside of the crate. I quietly fetched Bellamy so he could witness the adorable moment. After snapping a few photos, we moved Alex up to the bed and tucked her in. My heart clenched a bit as Zoe followed every movement with as much concern as a dog’s face could express, making sure that nobody was upsetting her little human.

She’s the perfect little addition to our family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m working on the next chapter right now, and I’ll warn you that it’s going to a darker place than we’ve seen so far. I was working on it before this one, but it was a little too heavy to go from the last chapter (Ch. 35) to what is now Chapter 37. I needed to write some fluffy filler to take a break from the emotional turmoil. God, I’m making it sound horrible and more traumatizing than it probably is. It’s not appalling… It’s just… dark. 
> 
> As always, REVIEWS feed my muse! And if you haven't left KUDOS already, please do so ~ 
> 
> THANK YOU ALL :-)


	37. red

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sometimes things break...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I warned readers at the end of the last chapter that this one would be rough.  
> For those of you who are familiar with this lifestyle, you'll recognize that this could be much, much worse... But for those of you who are new to this sort of thing, this might be upsetting, initially. The truth of the matter is, it happens. 
> 
> *TRIGGER WARNINGS*  
> Rough Sex, Erotic Beating, Punishment, Humiliation

It turns out that Zoe has many talents, among them the ability to open doors. We find this out one weekend when Alex is at her dad’s.

Bellamy has just finished eating me out and I’m recovering from my second mind-blowing orgasm in a ten minute span. All of a sudden, I feel the mattress dip with unexpected extra weight and Bellamy yells out in surprise as Zoe leaps up onto the bed, clearly wanting to get in on whatever fun is being had. She licks my face excitedly and I shriek with laughter as Bellamy groans amusedly.

He gets up, calling Zoe out the door and closing it behind her. He starts walking back toward me and I see the handle of the door raise of its own accord. The door immediately flies open and Zoe comes bounding back in, beating Bellamy back to the bed and licking my face again.

Bellamy scoffs, “What the ever living fuck!?”

I’m still laughing at this point, “Oh my god, Bellamy, she can open doors! Look – the handles are flat, so she just has to push up with her nose.”

He shakes his head, “That’s it. We’re going to Home Depot and replacing every single door handle with round knobs…” He laughs, “Since I’m still dressed, I’ll take care of the dog.” He looks at me sternly. “Stay here and don’t move.”

He leaves the room with Zoe and comes back about five minutes later.

“What did you do with her?”

He smiles as he multitasks, divesting himself of his remaining items of clothing. “I filled her Kong toy with peanut butter and let her out in the backyard to play with it. It’ll keep her occupied for a while. It’s a surprisingly nice day out, so she’ll be fine.”

“Is there water out there for her?”

“Of course. I checked.” He pushes me back onto the bed, pressing open-mouthed kisses to the sensitive spot on my neck, then gently nipping my earlobe. He whispers into my skin, “Now let’s get back to _this…”_

I groan and pull his face around, bringing his lips to mine. Then, he’s kissing me so deeply, I’ve forgotten how to breathe – It’s entirely possible that the oxygen around me has just disappeared. He finally lets me come up for air and I’m overcome by a need to be dominated… used… manhandled…

My voice is breathless when I beg him, “ _Please_ Bellamy… Fuck me… Like I’m a goddamn toy.”

Without missing a beat, he twists my hair around his fist, yanking it down so my neck is bent to the side, my ear violently thrust into my shoulder. This man knows how to bend me, twist me just right so that I’m completely helpless in his hands. It may seem like his handling of me is impulsive and reckless at first glance, but he’s so well-practiced in rough play that I feel no pain or injury when he yanks my head around by my hair. No, it doesn’t hurt… On the contrary – It feels fucking incredible…  

I growls into my neck, his voice graveled and unsettling… “You want it rough, Princess?”

I cry out when he nips my collar bone, “Y-yes, oh _god_... use me… Throw me around…”

He huffs and shakes his head, “Safe words?”

I cough a laugh, “Red to stop, Yellow to slow down…” Then my voice takes on an irritated growl, “And I’m telling you right now, _Cherries, goddammit!”_

His laugh is menacing when he lets go of my hair and picks me up just enough to spin me around so he can shove me face-first into the mattress. I release a surprised but appreciative groan as I barely manage to break my fall with my forearms. I feel him slap my ass _hard._ There was absolutely no holding back on his part, and the residual sting is radiating deliciously from the point of impact.

“Fuck! Thank you, Sir…”

He laughs dismissively, “We’ll see how long you’ll be thanking me, Princess…”

A shiver violently shoots through my body, a glaring indication of the panic that almost overcomes me. I remind myself that he won’t truly harm me and the panic quickly transforms into excitement.

Bellamy digs his fingers into the flesh of my hips and with a bruising grip, he yanks them up so I’m in knees-and-shoulders position, presenting my pussy to him just how he likes. He shoves two fingers into my cunt, and I can _hear_ how utterly soaked I am. Then, he abruptly removes his fingers and immediately plunges his cock deep into me. I cry out, gratified, _“Oh, fuck… Yes!”_ He pulls out to the tip, then snaps his hips brutally back into me, his cock reaching impossible depths inside of my pussy…

He fists my hair again and yanks me up to a kneeling position in front of him, his cock still buried inside of me, growling against my neck “You’re a kinky little slut, aren’t you?” I nod frantically, wordlessly confirming his appraisal. He chuckles, “You want me to fuck you like my gorgeous little fuck toy, huh?”

I’m pretty sure my wanton groan is bordering on obscene, “Fuck y-yes… Fuck toy… I’m your fuck toy…” Bellamy thrusts into me, rough and hard and brutal, at a pace that has me coming apart at the seams dangerously fast. He’s growling as my walls start to flutter around him. “Oh, _god_ , I’m gonna—”

He cuts me off, “The _hell_ you are! Don’t even think about it, Princess.” I shudder at the harshness of his voice, unbelievably turned on by his ruthlessness… It’s so not helping my self-control, and my orgasm is threatening to take over at full force. That’s the thing about orgasms – it’s easy to fake having one, but nearly impossible to hide when it takes me over… Thankfully, he lets up on the pounding before I tumble over the edge.

Bellamy takes hold of both my arms and secures them behind my back, forcefully guiding my hands to grasp my forearms. Then he pushes me forward again, this time keeping hold of my arms. Using one large hand to keep my arms locked together, he uses his free hand to shove my face into the mattress while he resumes fucking me, thrusting into me with delicious abandon. With each thrust of Bellamy’s hips, my nipples are treated to a robust friction against the sheets, and I can’t help but think that maybe this would be even more stimulating if we were on the rug. I file that thought away for next time…

Suddenly, he pulls his cock out of me and moves his hand away from my head, though he keeps my arms locked behind me. “Keep your arms just like this, understand?”

I nod in acknowledgement. Then he flips me over onto my back. My arms pinned underneath me cause my chest to be thrust out dramatically, which I’m sure was his intention. Bellamy begins plucking painfully at my nipples with one hand while the other hand softly and gently parts the folds of my pussy. The stark contrast between his treatments of these two powerful erogenous zones is startling, eliciting a series of grateful cries from me. He keeps running his mouth, which is doing sinful things to my body.

“Does my little fuck toy like it when I do this?” My answering nods and groans are furious and greedy.

Bellamy lowers his head to mine and captures my lips in a devastating kiss while he maneuvers my legs how he wants them. He hooks his hands under my bent knees and pushes them up so that they’re pointing toward my armpits. He anchors his fists into the bed at the crook of my bent knees, so his arms effectively act like stakes, keeping my legs arranged to his liking and spread completely open for him. At some point he managed to sink his cock back into me, and he’s gazing hungrily at the point where his cock is disappearing into my cunt.

“Fuck, Princess… Look at you, all spread out on my cock, waiting for me to fuck you senseless… Your tits thrust out in front of you, just begging for attention…” I roll my hips in a wide circle, trying to prompt him into movement, but my attempts are in vain. He keeps himself buried to the hilt inside of me, pulling out only slightly before thrusting back in. He teases me this way a few times until I’m begging him to move.

Finally, Bellamy starts furiously pounding into me again. “Goddammit, you’re so fucking tight around me…” He keeps going, “Fuck, your tits are incredible when they bounce like this... It’s like your body was MADE to be fucked like this.” I’m writhing in delight, and my orgasm starts to build, the pressure coiling in the pit of my abdomen… He can feel it, too. “Not yet, Princess. Don’t come yet!” As hard as I try to obey, it’s too much… He angrily yells out, “I _said_ don’t—” But before he can finish his sentence, my climax comes, brutally ripping through me as I scream out in ecstasy. He continues to fuck me through my orgasm, but is clearly not pleased by my disobedience. Once my body stops writhing underneath him, he stops moving and pulls out, “You just couldn’t listen, could you?”

I shake my head as he flips me back onto my stomach. I feel Bellamy smack my ass with severe force. “Now I have to delay my own release so I can punish you.” (I almost want to laugh at the feigned annoyance in his voice, like he’s trying to pretend that punishing me _isn’t_ a source of pleasure for him that rivals actual fucking). I groan again in anticipation of whatever punishment he may have in store for me. He stands up at the bedside and yanks me by the ankles to the far edge of the bed, dragging me on my stomach as my arms fly out and my fingers instinctively attempt to find purchase in the sheets. My legs fall over the side of the mattress and as my feet reach the floor, Bellamy pulls me upright by my hair.

He breaks character for a second to ask, “You still good?”

I nod with a smile, “Oh yeah, I’m good.”

He nods again and we are both instantly back in character.

Hands still fisted in my now-tangled blonde locks, he leads me over to face the mirrored wall. “Stay here.” I nod, obediently facing the wall as I watch him through the mirror while he riffles through his bedside table, then disappears into the closet briefly. He comes back to my side with two cups in hand. “You get twelve lashes with the belt for disobedience.” I nod – twelve is certainly do-able. Almost too easy, really. It’ll be unpleasant, but it’s not exactly a stretch for me. I look pointedly at the items in his hands. He chuckles, “Oh, I almost forgot… Silly me… You’re going press this coin to the mirror with your nose, and you _will_ keep it there during your entire punishment.” My brows are furrowed as I wait for him to continue. “You’re probably wanting to know what happens if you fail.” He snickers when he sees me cringe at the word _fail_. “Well, if you _fail_ to keep the coin on the wall, your punishment doubles.” Twenty-four lashes with the belt – now that _could_ be a challenge. He snorts, “Oh, and you’re going to stay on tiptoes, _and_ your arms are to remain held straight out in a “T” shape while you’re holding these little cups of sand on your flat and open palms.” He presents some tiny little paper cups that are filled with colorful sand, probably collected from Alex’s play set at some point. He whispers in my ear, “Do you wanna guess what happens if you spill the sand?”

I take a deep breath before I answer, “My lashes double?”

His laugh is downright sinister, “Fuck yes, they do. Now if you drop the coin _and_ spill sand, you’re looking at quadruple lashes.” He gives me some time to opt out of this, to call my safe word, but there’s no way I’m backing down from this challenge.

After taking a deep breath, I respond, “Cherries, Sir.”

He smacks my ass for good measure, “Good girl.”

He sets the sand cups on the floor by my feet and walks over to retrieve his belt.  As he rips the belt out of the belt loops on his jeans that were in a heap on the floor by the bed, I get into position, holding my hands out to the side. He drops the belt to the floor by our feet, then picks up the cups of sand and places them in the flattened palms of my outstretched hands. Then I get onto tiptoes and he places the coin on the mirror, gently pushing my face forward so can hold it in place with my nose. Satisfied with my positioning, he steps away and picks the belt up from the floor. He doubles it over and does that thing where he snaps the two strips together to make a jarring SLAP sound. I flinch slightly at the noise but the sand and coin remain in place. He lets the belt fall back into single-thickness as he wraps the buckle-end of it around his hand. He catches my eye as he raises his arm up and I give him a minuscule nod (can’t lose the coin).

He brings the belt down with powerful force, landing the blow on the fleshy area of my ass with a thundering CRACK!!  I release an enthusiastic shriek but my coin and sand cups remain firmly in place. As he lands the next ten blows, I feel a sense of smug relief, knowing I have just one more to go before I’m done.  I realize too late my arrogance is a mistake. Hubris dooms me as my attention falters and my left hand loses control of the sand. In a vain attempt to catch the cup before it tumbles to the floor, I come off my tip toes and the coin drops, bouncing across the floor to poetically to land in the new pile of sand.

Bellamy chuckles menacingly, shaking his head with a wicked smile, “Oh, Princess… Oops?”

I let the other sand cup fall to the floor and drop my forehead to the mirror, unable to hide my disappointment in myself, “ _Fuck…”_

Bellamy laughs again, “After this, Princess. You have to finish your punishment, _then_ we’ll fuck.”

I brace myself against the wall, readying myself to endure the remaining thirty-seven blows. I feel my face pale as I consider that number… _thirty-seven…_ I nod for him to continue and he raises his arm back up. “Count them out, Princess.”

He lands the next one, “Twelve, Sir.”

Another, “Thirteen, Sir.”

Another, “Fourteen, Sir.”

Another, “Fifteen, Sir”

He continues to belt me as I dutifully count them out. By number twenty, I am in tears but I continue to bear each lash. By thirty-two, the pain is severe enough that I’m starting to consider calling it, unsure that I can withstand sixteen more blows. When I get to thirty-eight my whole body is trembling and I can no longer verbalize the actual number. I’m in uncontrollable tears when I call out, _“RED!”_ He lands another blow and I scream _,_

_" **NO!! BELLAMY, PLEASE STOP!!! RED!!!”**_

I fall to a crying, shaking heap on the floor as Bellamy drops everything and catches me as I land. He’s holding me in his arms, rocking me side to side as I’m sobbing my apologies, “ _I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! I’m so, so, so sorry!”_ I keep frantically repeating my apology, barely able to hear Bellamy reassuring me that it’s okay. I faintly him telling me that I have no reason to be sorry.

“Clarke, baby… You _never_ have to apologize for calling your safe word.”  I’m still rocking back and forth, shaking my head and repeating my litany of apologies. It isn’t until I feel Bellamy’s tears on my shoulder that I snap out of it and my arms fly around his neck. Now I break down again, but for a new reason – I’m suddenly terrified that I _broke_ Bellamy.

With tears in my eyes, I bring my hand back to cup his cheek but he won't budge to let me see his face, “Bell? What’s wrong?” He has his face buried in my neck while we cling to each other for dear life. I’m overcome by tears again, “Oh my god, Bellamy, what’s wrong?!” I shake him, _“PLEASE Talk to me!”_   He shudders but finally lifts his head up. Tears are streaming down his face as he searches my eyes, bringing his hands up to cup my face. I ask again, “Bellamy, _please_ , talk to me!”

I pivot in his arms to face him and he drops his forehead to mine, “Clarke, I fucked up. I fucked up...” His tears are still coming fast and strong.

I shake my head frantically, “NO, Bell you didn’t. You DIDN’T fuck up!” I cup his face in my hands and push his head back so I can look him in the eye as I reassure him.   “Bellamy listen to me! You did _exactly_ what you were supposed to do. I called Red and you stopped, okay?”

He shakes his head, biting his lip as he closes his eyes again, “But what if I hadn’t stopped?! Clarke, I almost didn’t!” His voice falters to a broken whisper as he drops his forehead back to mine, _“I almost didn’t stop, Clarke.”_

I stroke his cheeks, “But you _did_ , Bellamy. You stopped.” He keeps shaking his head, his body trembling. I keep caressing his face, raking my fingers through his hair. “Bell, you stopped... Say it for me, Bellamy. You stopped.”

He takes a deep shaking breath, “I stopped.”

I nod, “Good. Say it again.”

“I stopped…”

 

* * *

 

[BELLAMY POV]

She may be okay now, but my mind won’t let go of that terrifying image of Clarke, cowering in fear, begging for me to stop... She keeps reminding me that I _did_ stop, making me repeat it like a mantra.

 _“I stopped… I stopped…_ ”

 _I’m_ the one that fucked up here. I’m supposed to be comforting _her_ , not the other way around. I pull her into me, cradling her in my arms again. “Clarke, I’m so fucking sorry.”

She wraps her arms around my torso, tightening her embrace, “Bellamy, it happened. We reached a limit. It was bound to happen.”

I shake my head, “I went too far.”

She crushes her arms around me, “NO, you didn’t. I called it before it went too far.”

“I shouldn’t have pushed you to go for 48 lashes. It was too much. I should have known that.”

“Listen to me, Bell. Please. You stopped when I asked you to.”

“What if you had been in subspace? You wouldn’t have called it and you know it.”

She shrugs, “I don’t know, I think maybe deep down, I knew 48 was pushing it. I can tell you now, I wasn’t slipping into subspace _at all_.  Okay?  Maybe my subconscious knew better than to let its guard down.”  

This is what I fear the most – That I won’t be able to control the beast inside of me when I’m delivering pain to Clarke. I get too into it and bad things happen.

We sit in contemplative silence for a while, as I continue hanging onto her like my lifeline. This is the definition of a _broken scene_ , and it kills me that it happened with Clarke. She’s right – it’s something that’s bound to happen. I just hate that it did.

She eventually breaks the silence with a soft voice, “Talk to me, Bell.”

I take a deep breath, “I don’t know what to say, Clarke. I don’t know how to make this right.”

She leans into me, “For starters, how about you accept that it’s not wrong.” I’m about to interrupt her, but she somehow knows what I’m going to say, so she continues. “You’re perseverating on the ‘what ifs’ right now. Hyper-focusing on something that didn’t happen.” I sigh, not refuting her words. She keeps speaking, “I’m not telling you to forget about it. I don’t want to diminish what you’re feeling. I’m just saying, the worst case scenario didn’t _happen_. The safeguards we placed _worked_.”

I nod, “You’re right. I know that. I’m just kind of reeling inside right now.”

She touches my chin and meets my gaze, “Reeling about what?”

I shrug, “Like you said, I can’t stop thinking about how it could have gone wrong.”

Clarke nods, “I know…” After a few minutes, she speaks again with a kind smile. “I have an idea. I’ll tell you about what I liked. Do you want to hear about that?”

I nod. “Yeah, let’s talk about the good parts.”

She grins, “I absolutely _loved_ everything leading up to the punishment.”

I smirk, “Yeah? Be specific...”

She closes her eyes with a gentle smile, “Well, the hair pulling and throwing me around. You’re so good at manhandling me, babe.”

My fingers are absentmindedly stroking her skin, “Is that right?”

She nods with a laugh, “ _Oh yeah_. You know just how to throw me around… I’m never worried that you’ll injure me because you do it so… perfectly. And it drives me absolutely crazy when you shove my face into the mattress. I have no idea why, but I love it...”

I nod, “What else did you like?” She’s right. This is helping to calm my head down.

She tilts her head, “Hmmm… I love when you start sounding all ruthless and scary. Like, when your laugh takes on a menacing quality, I know you’re as into it as I am. It’s really hot.” She pauses a moment before continuing. “Oh, and that last position you were fucking me in? I liked that.”

I chuckle, “Me too.”

She grins, “Tell me what _you_ liked about it.”

“I meant every word I said while I was fucking you. It’s like your body is made for it – your tits were front and center, thanks to your arms, which were pinned underneath you… And it gives me a prime view of your cunt taking my cock.”

She giggles, “Yeah, you do have a thing for that – cunts and cocks.”

I shrug, “I like to see _your_ cunt taking my cock.”

Her facial expression is pumped with pride, “Well, you _do_ have exclusive access…”

After a few more minutes of quiet reflection she adds, “By the way, that predicament was ingenious. I liked the challenge it gave me. Just, next time, maybe not _quadruple_ lashings.”

“Yeah, I should’ve thought that one through.”

She squeezes my arms, “Can we agree that despite having to call the safe word, everything else went right?”

I nod, “Yeah. We can agree on that. It’s just going to take me some time to… trust myself not to go too far.”

She nods, leaning into me again. “Take all the time you need. I’ll still be here.”

We tighten our embrace, “Thank you, Clarke.”

She starts stroking her fingers up and down my spine, “Thank you, Bell.”

After a few more minutes, we disentangle ourselves and get up off the floor. She fetches some Gatorade and we sip it down, replenishing the electrolytes that we’ve both probably lost via literal sweat and tears...

I feel Clarke step behind me, wrapping her arms around my arms, closing her hands over my shoulders. She presses an open mouth kiss between my shoulder blades, sending a shiver down my spine. I hold on to her right hand, pulling it to my lips and pressing a kiss to it before I pull her around in front of me. She wraps her arms around my waist and I cup her face in my hands, and when she gazes into my eyes I’m enveloped by the love she has for me.

“Kiss me, Bellamy.”

I drop my face down, hovering my lips over hers, letting the anticipation build before brushing our lips lightly together. I revel in the sigh that escapes Clarke when I _finally_ deepen the kiss, and it doesn’t take long for passion to overtake us. I walk her backward toward the bed as I feast on her mouth, licking deeply into her as our tongues tangle with enthusiasm.

A jolt of arousal surges through me when Clarke flutters her fingers around my cock, lightly grazing it. She smiles against my lips when my hips surge into her hands of their own volition. It takes virtually no time at all for Clarke to get me painfully hard again.

“ _Fuck… That feels good, Clarke.”_ She moans something that sounds like _good_ as I guide her to lay back on the mattress again. She breaks the kiss so she can crawl backwards and lay her head on the pillows. She crooks her finger in a come-hither motion, her face a picture of wanton desire. As I make my way up to her, I take time to appreciate and relish the body she so trustingly gives to me, grateful she will still allow me to enjoy her. I lay wet kisses up her legs, pausing at her most sensitive spots – the surprisingly responsive spot on her inner left thigh, just a few inches above her knee… Licking into the hollow of her hip… Dipping my tongue just briefly into her cunt as I make my way up the rest of her body. As I get closer to her face, my mouth becomes increasingly ravenous, savoring the way she arches her back off the bed to chase my touch.

I can’t control my need for her. “God, Clarke… I love you so fucking much.”

She moans, “I fucking love you, Bell… Please… I need you inside of me!”

“Turn over, I’m gonna make you feel good.”

With a grin she turns over onto her stomach, spreading her legs slightly. I crawl in between them, but make no moves to enter her, choosing instead to explore her back, leaving wet, biting kisses down her spine, moving off-center when I reach her waist so that I can lave my tongue over the sensitive skin of her ass, soothing it with gentle strokes (making a mental note to go back later and apply arnica and skin salve). Dipping my fingers between her legs, my head is dizzy with want when I feel the copious amount of wetness gathered there. I drive myself mad when I plunge two fingers into her cunt, massaging her inner walls, counting down the seconds until I can feel my cock in there instead…

I gently lift her hips up off the bed, allowing her to relax her head into the mattress while I maneuver her legs so that her knees are just outside of my own, then stretching her wide open by widening the distance between my own knees. I line my cock up to her dripping entrance, gathering the fluids on the tip, eliciting wanton moans from both of us each time the my tip rubs against her clit. She cries out as I push myself into her, delighting in the slick tightness of her cunt around me. Once I’m buried to the hilt, my mind is lost in a hurricane of desire and need. She pushes herself up on her elbows, her head still dropped against the mattress, and I can’t resist tasting the nape of her neck as it’s so beautifully presented to me in this position. As I start to fall forward, I anchor my hand in the mattress by her elbow, wrapping my right arm underneath her torso and relishing the heaviness of her left breast in my palm. I tighten my embrace, pulling her up as she rises to her palms and pushes herself against me. I pull out, nearly to the tip, before plunging back into her as she thrusts her hips against mine.

“Touch yourself, Clarke…” We continue pleasuring each other in this position, meeting each other thrust for thrust until I feel both of us coming close to climax.

Not ready for this to be over yet, I switch it up. Gripping her hips, I still her movements. With my cock still buried inside of her, I rearrange our legs so that my knees are our now outside of hers. The noises coming out of this woman make it immensely difficult to control myself… Holding her hips tight against mine, I sit back on my heels, then continue rolling back until my legs are in front of me. She’s positioned now so she’s on sitting on her knees, my thighs situated so they’re locked between her ankles and her thighs, so she’s seated in the cradle of my hips. I anchor one hand behind me, while the other grips onto her hips, guiding them in a rocking and rolling motion while I thrust gently up into her. Her own hands busy themselves, caressing her tits, occasionally tangling themselves in her wild blonde curls as she refines the rhythm of her hip movements.

Once she’s perfected her movements, I reach around and stimulate her clit. As I roll the sensitive bundle of nerves between my fingers, she’s nearly screaming in pleasure and within minutes I can feel the fluttering of her walls around my aching cock.

I groan into her shoulder, “Come on, Clarke… Let go… Come for me…” She nods furiously as she reaches a hand behind her, tangling her fingers in my hair and pulling painfully. Her grip in my hair tightens as she comes undone in my lap, the rhythmic clenching of her inner walls pulling me into my own climax, white heat building in the base of my spine as my thrusts take on an erratic rhythm and I spill everything I have inside of her.

She collapses against me, falling back into my chest as the fingers in my hair relax and fall away limp. After a few moments, I allow myself to relax into the mattress as she straightens her legs out in front of her, then I roll us both to the side in a spooning position. We relax there, still joined, legs tangled together as our breathing and heart rates return to normal…

Luckily, I don’t have to reach far to obtain the salve I need to massage into the raw skin of her ass… She moans gratefully as I gently knead her flesh with my fingers.

“Thank you, Bellamy….”

I kiss her shoulder, “Thank _you_ , Clarke.” After a few moments’ pause, I add, _“_ For _everything…”_

I don’t know that I would have recovered so well from that broken scene without her unending love and support.  Tonight was a learning experience, and it could have been worse. Clarke helped me to see what went right, guiding me to reconcile the bad with the good. If Clarke and I hadn’t recovered from tonight’s scene the way we did, I don’t doubt I would have had to step away from at least the S&M aspect of our activities while I resolved the trust issues I had with myself. Last time this happened, it took me over a year to recover. With Clarke’s care, I’m seeing that perhaps it wasn’t completely broken to begin with.

Clarke helped me to resolve everything before I lost faith.  She unknowingly fixed me before I broke completely... There's no fucking way I can lose her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A broken scene, if not handled with care, can end relationships and even drive people away from the lifestyle. It's yet another way that aftercare is vital for healthy BDSM practice. 
> 
> Hopefully, the chapter ended with some resolution for anyone who may have been upset by how their scene broke. I couldn't just leave this sort of thing with a cliffhanger. It is important for participants to at least _try_ and move toward resolution after a broken scene, so I didn't feel like it would be appropriate to prolong the angst for another chapter... 
> 
> \------
> 
> As always, I THRIVE on REVIEWS!  
> Please, if you have a moment, leave some feedback on this chapter. I'm curious to see how it is received ~ 
> 
> Also, if you haven't already left *KUDOS* please leave some :-)


	38. sappy stuff, bellamy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bellamy & Alex have some bonding time while shopping for Clarke's birthday :) 
> 
> One thousand percent fluff

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO LOVELIES!!!  
> I sincerely thank you all for the fantastic feedback these past few chapters - I've been floored by all of your support :)  
> The past few chapters were pretty heavy, so for this one, I give you fluff! 
> 
> A reader requested a fluffy chapter of Bellamy and Clarke shopping together for Clarke's gift. This request was perfectly timed :)

“Bellamy?”

“Yes, Alex?” I look up from my tablet to see Alex join me in the living room, taking the seat next to mine on the couch.

“Mom’s birthday is coming up.”

I nod, “I’m aware.”

“Normally, I’d have my dad take me shopping for her present, but I thought maybe this year, you and I could shop together.”

I smile at the thought. “I’d like that a lot, Alex.”

She smiles back at me, “Good. Can we go to Cherry Creek?”

I feel a scowl on my face, “The hoity-toity mall?”

She rolls her eyes, “I wasn’t really planning on going to the actual mall. There’s the Cherry Creek Arts District and a bunch of boutiques in the surrounding streets.”

I nod in agreement, “I could get on board with that.”

She gives me a satisfied smile, but keeps looking at me expectantly.

I give her a sidelong glance, “What?”

“Well, can we go now? Mom won’t be back for hours – she’s in surgeries all day today, remember?”

I nod, “True.”

Alex grins, “See? The timing is perfect. She won’t suspect a thing.” The kid has a point.

“Okay. Put Zoe in her kennel and we’ll get going.”

“Got it. I have to finish up something, too. How about we leave in fifteen minutes?”

I nod, “Fifteen minutes.”

The entire car trip to the mall, Alex is explaining the order of the shops she wishes to browse for Clarke’s birthday gift. “I think it would be best to park on a street in the center of the district. There are all kinds of cafes with great snacks and drinks if we want a little break. I really want to make sure we go into this boutique with all these scarves. Mom has been wearing a lot of scarves this winter.” I can’t hold back the laugh that comes when I think of _why_.

“It sounds like you’ve got this _all_ planned out.”

She nods, “Yeah. Is that a problem?”

I shake my head as I pull into the parking space, “Not at all. I prefer a game plan.”

She smiles as we get out of the car, “Sometimes it’s nice to just browse, but today’s the only day in the near future where we can get out of the house and do this without having to tell her we’re shopping for her birthday gift. I’m hoping we can find the right gift today.”

“Agreed.”

“So have you thought about what you’re gonna get her?”

I nod, “Yeah… Now that I’m thinking about it, you will actually be more helpful than Octavia for this.”

Alex shrugs, “Probably. She is my mom. And I know her _pretty_ well.” I ruffle her hair and she dodges out of my reach with a laugh, “I’m just saying… You’re right. I’ll be more helpful.”

“What are _you_ going to get her?”

She shakes her head, “Nope. I asked you first.”

I scoff playfully, “Fine… I’m thinking… fancy spice rack.” I pause, waiting for Alex’s reaction. There’s no fucking way I would even entertain the idea of a spice rack for the least domestic female I know. I’m just testing the waters with my new shopping partner.

Alex stops walking and gives me a level look, trying to decide if _I’m_ serious. After studying me for a moment, she laughs, “Thank god you’re kidding. I would hate to have to reconsider my whole plan for today.”

I laugh, “How’s that?”

She smirks, “That’s for me to know, and you to find out.”

I nod with a nervous laugh, “Great. You’re so much like your mom, it’s scary.”

Alex shrugs, “Well, I guess I came by it honestly, then.”

We keep walking until we get to a bohemian-looking shop with all kinds of trinkets. Alex pulls me to an area of the store filled with various wind chimes. After jostling a few of them, she pauses at a chime that is wide and long, producing deep soothing tones as they make contact with the pendulum. After playing the chimes a few times, she looks up at me, “I think I like this a lot. But I want to check a few other places, first. Since this is on the way back to the car, we can come back here if I don’t find anything better.”

I nod, “Sounds like a plan.”

She elbows me, “So you still didn’t tell me what you’re thinking about getting her.”

I take a deep breath. “Well, it’s...” I pause, since I haven’t actually verbalized what I want to get her. It’s just something that’s been on my mind since Alex cornered me at Lakeside this past summer.

She raises an eyebrow, “Are you gonna finish that sentence?”

I huff, “It’s jewelry, okay?”  

Alex smirks, “I thought as much. It’s good I’m with you. I’d hate if you got her the wrong ring.”

I roll my eyes, but can’t wipe the smile off my face.

Alex pulls something out of her pocket and hands it to me. “This fits her left ring finger.”

I hold it up to inspect it, “How do you know?”

“We were playing dress-up with her jewelry. It’s kind of something we do. Anyway, I had both of us putting on a bunch of different rings, and I made a mental note that this exact ring fit her left ring finger perfectly.”

“Smart.”

She shrugs, “I know. I’m still deciding how you can thank me.”

I scoff, “I have a feeling I’m gonna owe you big after this.”

She nods with a smug grin, “Yup.” She takes hold of my hand as she guides us down the block. She stops when we’re in front of a jewelry store. “In here. They’re expecting us.”

I can see my confused expression in the reflection of the glass just before the door opens. “Expecting us?”

She doesn’t bother explaining herself because we’re immediately greeted by a trio of jewelry salespeople. One of them has an awed grin, “Are you Alex?”

Alex nods, “That’s me.”

The saleslady smiles, “I thought so… a curly-haired blonde girl wearing a pink dress, leading a possibly confused-looking gentleman into the store.”

I raise an eyebrow at Alex, who just shrugs and looks me over, “Yeah. That was accurate.”

The younger saleslady sees my bewildered expression and offers an explanation, “Miss Alex called an hour ago and told us to be expecting you. She tells me you’re in the market for an engagement ring?”

I nod, “Yeah, you could say that.” I glance down at Alex, who is beaming.

Alex pipes up, “It’s for my mom. Her name is Clarke.” This earns united “awwwww’s” from everyone in hearing range who has been privy to the exchange so far. Everyone in this store is clearly taken by this precocious blonde girl.

The saleslady smiles, “Well, I’m going to introduce you to Laurel. She’s going to work with you to design Clarke’s ring.”

A woman steps forward and shakes my hand, then Alex’s. “It’s lovely to meet you both.” She leads us over to a desk where she pulls out a sketch book, as well as a book of photos.

“So, do you have an idea of what you’re looking for?”

I furrow my brows, “Not exactly. I’m kind of hoping I’ll know it when I see it.”

She nods with a smile, presenting a book of engagement rings, “Well, let’s look through these to get a ballpark of what you’re looking for or not looking for. Then we can go from there.”

I open the book up and I’m immediately overwhelmed by the sheer number of options in front of me. “I don’t want to give her just a run-of-the-mill ring.” I flip through the pages, trying to get a sense of what I’m looking for, but nothing is jumping out at me. After flipping through another few pages, I look up at Laurel, “So far, I’m not seeing what I’m looking for... They all seem like the same ring.”

Laurel looks at me meaningfully. “Have you considered letting someone design a custom ring?”

“Isn’t that what we’re doing? I can mix-and-match settings and stones?”

Laurel nods, “Yes. But we can go beyond that. I design custom metal work and settings. We can put something together that can’t be found in any book anywhere.”

I nod with a smile, “I like that idea.” I look down at Alex, who has been uncharacteristically silent for the past few minutes. She sides up to me, resting her chin on my shoulder. I look up at her, “Got any advice, kid?”

She smiles, “I like her idea. Coming up with a totally unique design. I think it would make it even more meaningful for mom.”

“Agreed... We should set up some parameters, though. Like, no yellow gold. She doesn’t like yellow gold.”

Alex nods, “And you know mom wants nothing to do with diamonds.”

I nod with a laugh, “I’ve been aware of that fact since her Blood diamond/anti-DeBeers manifesto our junior year of college.”

Laurel chimes in. “All of our stones are ethically sourced, diamonds included.”

I tilt my head to the side, while a grimace forms on my face, “Let’s go ahead and eliminate diamonds from the mix completely. She’ll go off on some tangent about how they’re not actually rare, just tightly controlled by a cartel… It’s a can of worms I really don’t want to open when I’m down on one knee, you know?”

Laurel laughs. “I understand. Is there a specific stone you have in mind?”

I nod, “Blue sapphire.”

Alex grins, “Good choice.” She directs her attention to the designer, “Mom has blue eyes like mine.”

“Well, I have an assortment of loose stones available. Rather than flipping through photos of rings, we could pick a stone, and I could create a design around that. Or we could go the other way around and design a ring, then choose a stone.”

I frown, “I don’t know. Maybe start with a stone?”

She nods with a smile as she rises from her seat to gather what I come to realize is thousands and thousands of dollars’ worth of gemstones. She presents five stones at first – each a different cut. “Now, I want you to look at the shape of the stone, not the size. Does anything in particular stick out?”

I nod, pointing to the pear. Alex nods furiously, “Yes, yes! That’s the perfect shape.  You don't see that one often.”

Laurel smiles, “I’ll be right back.” She returns with several stones of different sizes and varying shades of blue, all in a pear cut.

I pick up the biggest stone with the tweezers, then take a glance at Alex, whose appalled scowl matches my own. We both laugh at each other for a few moments before Alex opines, “Can you imagine mom wearing this in a ring? She’d probably be walking lop-sided!”

I nod in agreement, “I can’t see her being comfortable with anything this ostentatious.”

We choose a deep blue 1.8 carat pear-shaped sapphire. After we’ve chosen the stone, Laurel sits down across from Alex and me. “I have a process when I design custom rings. To put it simply, your story is my inspiration. I’ll give you a few prompts, and as you talk, I sketch my ideas.”

I find myself feeling enthusiastic about this. “Sounds good.”

She nods, “Tell me about you and Clarke.”

“What do you want to know?”

She tilts her head to the side. “What’s your origin story? When did you meet?”

I chuckle, “Well, it’s a really long story. Clarke and I have been in the works for fifteen years… We met in college, and we pissed each other off on a regular basis for a year and a half. It was like a sport...”

Alex starts laughing, remembering the stories I’ve told her about Clarke before we lay down our figurative weapons. She chimes in, “Bellamy used to call her Princess. Mom used to hate it.”

I chuckle, “Yeah, yeah.”

Alex continues, “I don’t think she minds it now, though. When you call her princess now, she smiles and blushes.” I feel a smug grin stretch across my face, chuckling because there’s no way Alex can _ever_ know _why_ her mom blushes so furiously when I call her _Princess_.

“Eventually, Clarke and I became friends. Best friends. Yeah, we went through ups-and-downs. We even fell out of contact for several years… But we found our way back to each other.”

Alex coos, “Awww… So it took you guys fifteen years to realize you wanted to bone?” I unsuccessfully stifle my laughter at Alex’s word choice.

“ _Bone_ , Alex?”

She nods, “You know, like have sex.”

I shake my head, murmuring, “We have a new front-runner for most awkward conversation with my future step-daughter.”

Alex laughs, “Yeah, yeah... But answer my question. It took fifteen years?”

I shrug, “Not exactly… We were both interested in each other in ways that went far beyond platonic, but our timing was always wrong. Until last March.”

Alex asks, “What happened last March?”

I smile, “The timing was finally right.”

Laurel smiles as she continues sketching. She’s been drawing this entire time, and I’m curious as to what she’s going to come up with. “Tell me about Clarke.”

“What do you want to know?”

Alex cuts in, “Sappy stuff, Bellamy.”

Laurel laughs in agreement, “Yeah, what she said, basically. I don’t know Clarke, so tell me why she’s special. Why are you giving her this ring?”

“Well, I want to spend the rest of my life with her.”

Alex rolls her eyes, “Obvs. Now tell us why.”

I narrow my eyes at Alex, “Why do I feel like I’m being tested?”

Alex shrugs, “Maybe you are. Now do as the nice lady asked… Describe mom.”

I laugh as I lean back in the seat. And the words just start pouring out. “She’s… my other half. She not only understands me, she accepts me. All of me. And loves me even when I don’t think I deserve it. That’s Clarke. She _loves_ so much and so deeply. She’d been burned in the past, and she was wary of the notion of ‘love.’ But I have the privilege of getting to love her… She let me in." I look down and Alex has this wistful smile on her face.  She loves hearing about her mom.

“She’s one of those people who doesn’t quite believe how truly amazing she is. She’ll joke around about being conceited, but she doesn’t sincerely consider herself to be the extraordinary woman she is. She’s so unbelievably strong… She’s impassioned and loyal. When she goes for something, she puts her entire self in it. Clarke makes impossible things happen. She always rises to the challenge. She finished med school, then went through a grueling residency as a single mom, and has this kid here to show for it.” I motion toward Alex, who is smiling brightly.

“She’s hilarious. Sometimes her humor is dry and tactless. Sometimes her obliviousness is the funniest thing. Other times she’s a total nerd. She has a great laugh, and when she lets herself _really laugh_ , it’s among the most beautiful sounds in the world.”

I feel a flood emotions pass through me as I think back on the past decade and a half like a highlight reel. The first time I heard her playing the piano… The first time she scowled at me in class for calling her _Princess_ … The countless fights I picked with her just to see the spark in her eye, the fire burning inside of her... The inappropriate surge of pride I felt because I was the one who put that spark there…

I don’t realize I stopped talking until Alex pokes at me. “What else? You stopped after talking about mom laughing.”

“Oh, sorry. I was thinking about the first time I realized I loved her.” Alex looks at me expectantly, waiting for me to continue. “I had already accepted the fact that I was addicted to her fiery temper, otherwise I wouldn’t have devoted so much time to pissing her off.” Alex chuckles when a grin stretches across my face. “For a while, I told myself that my fixation was just misplaced intrigue… But one day, it finally hit me. I was sitting across from her in the music library while she took down notes for our Stravinsky presentation. It was our sophomore year of undergrad, back when we were both still studying music. We got assigned to work on a project together, analyzing _The Rite of Spring_. Our professor had purposefully matched us together, and both of us were… less than pleased about it. He wouldn’t change the assignments, so we were stuck working together. It ended up being fantastic. Working together to prepare that presentation is what probably helped us to get over our mutual dislike of each other. If we’re being honest, though, we had stopped hating each other long before that.” Alex raises an eyebrow, clearly recalling a story I told her this summer, so I amend my statement. “Okay, fine… I never hated her. But she was so _infuriating_ , and she loved being right. So, of course, I made it my mission to pick apart every argument she made.”

Alex interrupts to inform Laurel, “Apparently, he thought that _any_ attention was good attention.”

I shrug with a smug grin, “Like I told you the first time, Alex: Clarke Griffin knew who I was.”

Alex rolls her eyes, “Yeah, whatever. Back to falling in love with mom.”

“Alright, alright… You’re so pushy.”

Alex shrugs, clearly not bothered by the accusation. She just gives me an eager smile, waiting for me to continue.

“So we were forced together for the Stravinsky presentation. We met up at the music library because it was a neutral location. It must have been shortly before the presentation, because Clarke was assembling the PowerPoint slides, using my hand-written notes. I remember intently watching the line between her brows deepen as she frowned in frustration, trying to decipher my writing. Clarke sighed and looked up at me, and when she met my gaze, my heart practically skipped a beat. We had a moment – like we were trapped in each other’s gaze, you know?” Alex smiles fondly and nods. I continue, “Then the moment passed, and her gaze transformed into a glare and she scoffed _‘I swear to god, Bellamy… How the hell did you get this far in life with the handwriting skills of a five-year old?’_ That probably should have ruined it, but I could still hear my heart pounding wildly in my ears, undeterred by her condescension. I realized I was so far beyond gone for Clarke Griffin.”

Alex asks, curious, “What did you do about it?”

I huff and shrug my shoulders, “I insulted her…” Alex sighs exasperatedly, so I continue, “Hey, give me a break. I was taken off-guard by the sudden realization that I was in love with her, and I needed some time to sort out the unfamiliar _feelings_.”

Alex rolls her eyes, “You guys were ridiculous.”

I laugh, “No one ever accused us of being rational…”

Laurel is still sketching, responding to my narrative with strokes of her pencil moving wildly over the paper. I continue, “Clarke knows how to push my buttons, for sure… There’s no one who can set me on fire more effectively than Clarke. I mean that in every possible context. Except for actual fire.” I think on it for a minute, before correcting myself. “Actually, I wouldn’t put real fire past her.” Both Alex and Laurel chuckle. “But in all seriousness, Clarke knows better than anyone how to put me back together when I feel broken. She makes me feel _human._ ” I pause there. There’s so much I want to say, and it’s starting to jumble around in my head.  “And _fuck_ , she’s so beautiful…”

Alex agrees, “He’s right. My mom is _so_ pretty.”

Laurel smiles at her, “Well, if she looks anything like you, I’d have to agree.”

I keep going, “I mean it.   Beautiful, inside and out. She’s a good person, and that goodness inside of her is radiant.” Alex smiles at me as I wrap up my paltry description of Clarke. “If I were to describe Clarke in one word, it would be… _home_. Because she is who I will come back to every day. Wherever Clarke is, that’s my home.”

Laurel straightens out her papers with a delighted smile. “Ready?”

“Really? You’re done? That took like, no time at all.”

Laurel smiles, looking pleased, “I’m good like that. Keep in mind, these are rough sketches, just to put the design concept on paper.”

She unveils her sketches, and I’m stunned. Each ring is perfect in one way or another, but one stands out beyond the rest, and judging by Alex’s delighted smile, she agrees with me. The details are stunningly Clarke-like. Two strands of platinum will make up the shank, weaving and wrapping around each other. I can’t help but smirk at the fact that the strands remind me of ropes, which is interesting considering that I mentioned nothing about Clarke’s love of rope bondage. Laurel took creative license and added two additional smaller sapphires, also pear-shaped, placed on either side of the main stone, encased between the two metal strands where they separate. The pointed ends of the side stones face away from the center stone. On the face-side of the ring, the metal “strands” will hold several small round ice-blue sapphires as they surround the darker sapphires. The combined elements of the engagement ring together look like an ornate infinity symbol around the center stone. The final, winning component is a wedding band. When put together with the engagement ring, it looks like a crown fit for a princess.

After we’ve finalized the details, I pull out a bank card that’s never been used. I started putting money away specifically for _this_ purpose about a week after Clarke came back into my life. I figured the sooner I start saving, the better prepared I’d be for the price tag. I know now that nothing would ever really ‘prepare’ me for the price tag, but thankfully I’ve saved more than enough to cover it.

While we’re walking back to the car, I hear my phone chime and I look at it. It’s a file sent from Alex. “What’s this?”

She smirks, “I recorded you when you were talking to Laurel. I thought you might want it for later, because you know, vows and stuff.”

I stop walking and crouch down to Alex’s level, pulling her into a hug. “Thank you, Alex. That’s perfect.”

She hugs me back, “You’re welcome, Bellamy…” She squeezes me harder and adds softly, “Don’t fuck it up.”

I huff a laugh, “Charming.”

On our way back to the car, Alex pulls me back into the store with the wind chimes. “I wasn’t kidding when I said I needed to get her a present. I liked the wind chimes.” As the cashier rings us up, I start pulling out my wallet. Alex stops me, retrieving her own wallet. “No, I’ve got this. Thanks, though.”

“You got it.”

After she pays, we walk back to the car.  "So have you figured out how you're gonna propose, yet?"

I smile, "I've got a few ideas..." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've got a billion ideas for how Bellamy will propose to Clarke... picking just one will be a challenge. 
> 
> I've got a play party chapter in the works... It's taking longer than I thought because there is just sooooo much happening in that thing. Thank you all for your patience! 
> 
> Also, I'm on [tumblr](http://missemarissa.tumblr.com/) now!!! (username MissEMarissa if the link stops working). Come visit me while I figure out what the hell I'm doing on there. 
> 
> REVIEWS give me life! KUDOS make me smile!!! Take a moment to leave either or both :-)
> 
> Also, if you have any requests for scenes you'd like to see, please leave a comment and let me know, and maybe I'll be able to work it in :) 
> 
> THANK YOU ALL!!!


	39. etiquette

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke & Bellamy are invited to a play party... and Clarke gets _all_ worked up ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YOU GUYS! You're so freaking awesome!!! All your responses to the ring-buying fluff last chapter made my day(s). So, THANK YOU ALL!!!  
> I'll be responding to individual comments after I post this ~ I appreciate each and every one of you :)  
> Keep the reviews coming - they keep me motivated :)

[Bellamy POV]

Clarke and I are relaxing on the couch, picking out something to watch on Netflix, when I get a text from Lucas about a play party he’s hosting this weekend.

**_Saturday. 9pm_ **

**_Private/Invite only_ **

**_Clothing optional past the door_ **

“So do you still want to go to the kink party at Lucas & Talia’s tomorrow?”

Clarke gives a playful grin, “Hell, yes.”

I laugh, “Excited, much?”

She nods, “Yeah. I mean, a little nervous. After all this time, we haven’t been to a play party. Didn’t you go to a lot of these before?”

I nod, “Yeah. I did. It’s funny you mention it because I’ve gotten several of inquiries as to whether I dropped off the face of the earth lately. You know, from regulars who haven’t seen me around.”

She frowns, “Is that my fault?”

I shake my head, “No. Shit has been busy lately, especially at work. An older collection is going into the archives and I’m working with the Snowmass team to stage the Mastodon from Snowmass dig. It’s not technically my project, but it’s a huge venture, so a lot of teams are working on it.”

She laughs, “Yeah, you’ve been working a lot of hours lately.”

I nod, “Well, there have been some… developments at work.”

Clarke quirks an eyebrow, “Oh? What kind of developments?”

“They’re offering me the lead curator position for a new collection.”

She jumps up, “OH MY GOD! BELLAMY! That’s so awesome!” She pulls my neck into a hug so tight I may require medical attention later.

After she calms down, I continue, “There’s a catch. Kind of.”

With a furrowed brow, she hesitantly asks, “Oooookay, what is it?”

“They want me to go back to finish my Ph. D.”

She tilts her head to the side, “That doesn’t sound like a _bad_ thing.”

“No, it isn’t. It’s something I planned on doing for a while, really. I just didn’t get around to it over the past five-ish years.”

She smirks, “Yeah, I remember busting your ass about not finishing your doctoral program. So what will it entail?”

“Well, going back to school, obviously. New dissertation. My original Ph. D. was in Classics, but they want me to consider an archeology or museum-studies component. That might require me to attend a field school, possibly even add a Masters in Museum and Field Study first.

She squeezes my hand, “Bell, that’s all workable.” I pull her into my side and kiss the top of her head. I’m incredibly happy that I have her support in this. “Do you know what that means?”

I frown, “What does it mean?”

She grins, “There will be two doctors in the house.”

I roll my eyes, “You’re the real ‘doctor,’ Clarke. I’ll be a Ph. D.”

She smacks my chest, “Stop that shit, Bellamy. It’s a damn doctoral degree. You’ll be Doctor Blake.”

I laugh in assent, “Fine.”

“Don’t sell yourself short, Bell. It’s huge.”

I press another kiss to the top of her head, “Thanks, Clarke. Really.”

She shrugs and burrows into my side, “I’m proud of you.”

I can’t fight the grin on my face as she pulls me down for a kiss. I was pretty sure she’d back me up on this, but it makes me happy all the same to hear it from her.

“What were we talking about before work-stuff?”

She grins, “The party. I’m excited, but nervous – I’ve never been to one.”

“That’s okay. There are different types. The one with Lucas and Talia is a private party, meaning invite-only. For this particular gathering, any ‘guests’ of ours must be vetted first.”

She gives me a thoughtful look, “Have I been ‘vetted?’”

I nod, “Yeah. Back when we first got together. Talia took it upon herself to start the process, do a background screening. Asked me a shit ton of questions.”

“Why do they do that?”

“Because, the attendees in our group, or any group, come together to play with an expectation of… discretion. Things with this lifestyle are still stigmatized, so they don’t want anyone coming in who could make trouble for group members. With public parties, anyone is generally welcome as long as they follow the rules.”

“Are the rules the same everywhere?”

I shrug, “There are the unwritten rules, like play party etiquette. Such as how you interact with other guests. This should go without saying, but _never_ touch someone without asking. God, they should plaster that on every wall…”

She scoffs, “That’s a thing?”

I nod, “It’s been an issue with some of the public parties lately – people coming out of nowhere and rubbing another person’s shoulders, which is unacceptable. And disturbing. That’ll get the person thrown out, pronto.”

She nods, “Good… What else?”

“Um… Don’t touch people’s toys without asking.”

Clarke laughs, “Like preschool all over again.”

I chuckle, “But much more naughty… Seriously though. You know that those things can be expensive. Not to mention the hygienic aspects. I mean, some toys can be effectively sanitized, but either way, you should never touch without asking. Even if they do give you permission to touch the toys, you shouldn’t use them. We’ll bring our own toys to play with if we so choose.”

She nods, “What else?”

“There is the general expectation that ‘what happens here stays here,’ but in the context of a public play party, you can’t really control who comes in. There could be stealth photographers, or actual sexual predators… That’s why dungeon masters and spotters are especially important there. There’s not much room for the hosts to relax or have fun because they have to be on alert for anything out of the ordinary.”

She frowns, “Okay. I guess that makes sense.”

I continue my explanation, “When Lucas hosts his parties, only members of our group are invited. We all know each other well. Lucas vets guests to weed out any known sexual predators, people with a bad reputation, sex offenders, or those convicted of violent crimes. There are other criteria I’m forgetting, but that’s the gist of it. His parties are known for their exclusivity.”

She grins, "Well, I feel all important now."

"I feel like I should note, this isn't a place where you're going to see people having sex from wall to wall."

Clarke laughs out loud, "That's a thing?"

I shrug, "It's kind of what people think a BDSM party entails."

She nods with a light-hearted chuckle, "So it's _not_ a room full of sex.  Got it."

"To be honest, there is not much sexual activity in the main play area.  Sometimes in the smaller rooms there will be people, sometimes several people, engaged in sexual acts, but the main room isn't usually the place for people to fuck."  Clarke almost blushes at this, which is adorable.  "We'll have our own room if you really can't resist me..."  She laughs in amusement, so I continue,  "Along those same lines, a lot of what you'll see may turn you on.  But don't masturbate while watching a scene.  In fact, while on the play floor, don't touch yourself.  Unless I tell you to." 

Her breath hitches, "That's... you'd do that?"  She's worked up already - pupils dilating, shallow panting breaths... She doesn't even realize it. 

My laugh is dark, "I might..."  I'm honestly just curious _where_ her line will be drawn this weekend. I won't push her past her limit, but we may see just how _far_ her exhibitionist streak goes...

Clarke nods, looks a little far away.  She shakes her head to snap herself out of her thoughts (I'd love to know what they were) and chooses to move on, “What about dress code? Like, what do I wear?”

I grin, “Tomorrow, it’s clothing optional past the door, which is typical for his parties. Fetish wear isn’t a requirement at Lucas’s parties, but some people opt to wear it. They live in a nice neighborhood, so we'll be dressed in normal vanilla clothing when we arrive. They don’t really need their neighbors asking questions about why there are a bunch of naked people flocking to their house.”

She laughs out loud, “Well, that’s certainly understandable.” After a moment, she asks, “What should _I_ wear tomorrow, then?”

I shrug, “Something sexy. But something you’re comfortable in. Something that makes you feel good to wear.”

She nods thoughtfully, “Okay. What are _you_ going to wear?”

“The usual – dark pants, black shirt.”

She smiles, “Black T-shirt?”

I nod, “Yeah.”

She rakes her fingernails along my bicep as her voice takes on a sultry tone. “The one I like, that shows off how hot your arms are?”

I smirk, “Probably.”

Her groan is wanton, “You always look so fucking hot in black...” Her sigh is breathless, “You know how bad I’m gonna wanna fuck you all night?” I raise an eyebrow. How is it that I’m only _just now_ realizing her thing for me in black t-shirts? She smirks back at me for just a moment before her facial expression becomes voracious…

Grinning, I pull her into my lap, drag my lips down her neck and nose the straps of her tank top out of my way to expose more of her delicious collarbone. “Please, _do continue,_ Princess…”

Clarke grinds herself down in my lap, “You want me to tell you what I like about it?”

I nod, “Mmm hmm…”

She gently tangles one hand into my hair, lightly scrapes her fingernails along my scalp. Her other hand returns to my arm where her fingers trail up and down. “I like that I can see all your arm muscles flexing as you move…” She grasps my upper arm with her nimble fingers, “from your biceps… to your triceps… and all your forearm flexors… and extensors…” She drags her fingers along the corresponding muscles as she names them in a voice that is far too sensual for an anatomy lesson. She traces her fingers along my inner forearms, trailing them along the circumference. “You know which are my favorites?”

I shake my head, “Which ones?”

She walks her fingers slowly along my outer forearm. Her voice is sultry as fuck, “This is your flexor carpi ulnaris.”  She drags her finger in the direction of my inner elbow, "And this one is your brachioradialis.  When you’re flogging me, as you grip the handle and flick your wrist back, these muscles, _right here_ flex in the most beautiful way. I get lost sometimes, just watching it…”

I smile against her neck, “Is that right?”

Clarke nods and pulls her hair out of its ponytail. Her head falls back as my hands make their way underneath the thin material of her tank top, relishing the smooth skin of her torso.  She grinds down again on my increasingly hard cock, drawing an insuppressible groan from me as my mouth finds its way to the hollow of her throat, unhurriedly making my way back to her lips. We drink each other in, hands roaming, hips rolling, breaths mingling… I pull away as I tug her shirt over her head, voicing my desperate appreciation that she chose not to wear a bra. My hands descend back to her torso to greedily explore the exposed skin.

Clarke squeezes her tits together, conveniently at my eye level. I eagerly take a nipple in my mouth and lave my tongue over it softly before biting down with a wicked grin. Her answering groan is downright _indecent_ … My hands travel down her sides and I crush the flesh of her hips in my fingers with bruising force while I swallow her lustful growls with ravenous kisses.

“Stand up, Princess.” She complies and stands between my legs while I lean forward, my forehead rests on her abdomen. I slip my hands underneath the band of her lace tanga and grasp the ample flesh of her ass. Her breath hitches as my palms purposefully move along her backside and down her thighs, pushing her underwear down with them. I lay biting kisses along her torso before I nudge her to step out of the dampened lace.

Clarke wastes no time, claws at my shirt, impatiently tugs it over my head before I lean against the back of the couch. She releases a satisfied moan as she grips the waistband of my boxer briefs and tugs on them as I lift my hips up. Her face expresses pure satisfaction as she licks her lips. Her eyes never leave my painfully hard cock as she drags my boxers down so I can kick them the rest of the way off.

She leans down and takes my cock her hand, brushes her thumb lightly over the head, makes me groan as my head falls back against the couch cushions. She drops to her knees and takes me in her mouth with impeccable skill. My hands tangle themselves in her already-wild hair as she bobs up and down, taking me a little deeper each time. As the head of my cock meets the back of her throat, she gags a little and it tightens reflexively in the most blissful fucking way. After a few gags, she takes me all the way in. She’s taught herself to deep-throat, and she’s really fucking good at it. So good that I’m going to blow my damn load if she doesn’t lay off right now…

With a strangled groan, I tell her, “Clarke, you gotta stop…” She keeps at it, relentless. I tighten my grip on her hair and pull her mouth off my cock. She glares at me with narrowed eyes, clearly displeased with the interruption. “ _Princess_ … if you keep taking me down your throat like that, I’m gonna shoot come down it in record fucking time.”

She rolls her eyes in obvious annoyance, “And that’s a problem because???”

With one hand still twisted in her blonde locks, I use my free hand to stroke her cheek as I warn her sternly, “Careful, Sweetheart. You’re earning yourself quite an _attitude adjustment._ ”

She shivers, “I’m sorry, Sir.”

I disentangle my hand from her hair and motion for her to straddle my lap. As she settles, I part her folds with my fingers, I close my eyes and curse when I find her literally _dripping_ wet with arousal. “Holy fuck, Clarke…”

She groans, “That’s all you, Sir…

I thrust two fingers into her, pump them in and out a few times. “I think you wanna get fucked, Princess.”

Clarke nods frantically…

I chuckle as I bring my mouth to her ear, “Beg for it, Princess.”

Eyes still closed with a furrowed brow, she whimpers, “ _Please,.._ ”

I shake my head, unsatisfied with her pleas, “You can do better than that, Princess.” She grinds her hips against my fingers, so I have to use my free hand to hold her still, “Uh uh uh,” I reprimand. “No cheating. Now _beg for it_.”

Her face is a picture of frustrated bliss, her voice breathless, “I need you inside me… Please…”

I sigh, “Please, _what?”_

Exasperated, she moans, _“PLEASE, Sir… Fuck me!” ”_

I nod as I nip along her collarbone, “That’s better.”

She smiles sweetly, “May I ride you, Sir?”

I cup her cheek and nod, “You may, Princess.”

She lines me up at her entrance. As she sinks down to envelop me in her wetness and warmth, she closes her eyes and lets her head fall back so her hair grazes her lower back. Once I’m completely sheathed inside of her, she relaxes for a moment, lets herself adjust to the intrusion. Then she rolls her hips experimentally to find the perfect motion, cries out when I tilt my hips slightly to change the angle just enough for my cock to hit that spot inside of her that has her keening.

“Oh, fuck, right there!” She rolls and thrusts her hips, chases her climax but grapples with her control…

My voice is a stern warning, “Careful, Princess… Remember the rule.”

She whimpers, “I won’t come until you say I can.”

“I _won’t_ be disobeyed.”

She nods, “Yes, Sir.”

“Good girl.”

I firmly draw my hands up her sides, still completely unable to resist her tits that bounce in my face. I grasp at them feverishly and crush the globes of flesh with my fingers, then pull a nipple into my mouth. Every tug provokes voracious mewls from the woman writhing in my lap.

She’s gasping, _“Please…”_

After some more teasing, I lift her up off of my lap and rise from the couch with her. I extricate myself from the powerful grip of her legs so she slides off of me (much to her chagrin). I point over to the middle of the living room rug, “Kneel.” She complies, walks to the rug and gracefully falls onto her knees, hands calm, body composed. Her face is a picture of obedience, and my cock twitches at her surrender. I nod approvingly, “Good girl.” She smiles as I walk a circle around her to inspect her position. I poke and push on her a few times, just to test her steadiness. I push down on her shoulders and demand, “Sit down, Princess, so your lovely ass rests on your heels.” Once she’s achieved this position, I use my toes to tap on the insides of her knees.  I command her to spread them apart until I’m satisfied they are opened wide enough. “Lean back all the way, Princess.” I kneel down as she reclines until the back of her head rests on the ground, arms stretched out above her head.

“Jesus… look at you. I wish you could see yourself right now, all spread out and aching for me…” Her back is arched by necessity, wanton and moaning in front of me. “And your pussy... it's fucking glistening…”

She groans, _“Please,_ fuck me!”

In one smooth motion, I descend on her, rest my forearms on either side of her head. Her gaze is hungry, almost carnivorous, and I drop my head down to meet her lips in a smoldering kiss. I plunge into her and draw satisfied but ravenous cries from both of us as I bottom out inside of her. After a few moments, I start to move within her in a circular motion that stimulates her just right as we move together. Then I switch it up.  I pull out of her, then thrust back in _hard_ in a punishing rhythm. Each time I thrust into her, my pubic bone meets her clit in a way that ensures she'll fall apart quickly. Her walls flutter and I know she’s close, and I figure it’s only fair to give her some release. I’ve been a little more lenient with her since the “Red” incident in this regard.

“You wanna come, Princess?”

She cries out, “Oh god, yes! _Please!”_ I fist my hands into her hair and pull painfully on her locks and she shrieks in appreciation, _“_ Oh _FUCK_ that’s good, keep doing that _.”_ I oblige and down on her collarbone.  I revel in the resulting powerful clench of her cunt around my cock.

“Beg, Princess…”

She nods frantically, “P-PLEASE, PLEASE! I’m begging you! I need to— _please_ … Let me come, Sir!

I smile into her neck, “You have my permission…” I latch onto the sensitive flesh of her neck just below her earlobe as she comes undone around my cock. As hard as it is, I keep myself under control, determined to bring her to orgasm at least once more before I’m done with her. I fuck her through her climax and swallow her voracious moans with deep kisses. As she comes down, I pull out of her and rise to my knees again.  I pull her up with me and meet her in another passionate kiss. She moans breathlessly in response and when I pull away, she looks thoroughly intoxicated.

“You’ve been so good… So good…” She smiles at me, content and compliant. God, her acquiescence… “I fucking love you.”

She smiles drunkenly, “I love you, too….”

I sit back on my own heels with my knees spread apart for balance. I pull her into my lap and she throws her arms around my neck, then anchors her feet next to my hips. Without missing a beat, she impales herself on my cock and squirms deliciously in my lap. My mind spins a little when she rakes her fingers along my scalp and tugs slightly on my hair, pulls me closer to her neck. She whimpers as she arches into my touch while my hands and mouth caress everything on her body I can reach.

I wrap my arms around her waist to support her back and keep her anchored inside me when I tell her “Lean back again, Princess.”

She sprawls all the way back down, arches her back up and affords me an incredible view of my favorite parts of her. “You’re so goddamn beautiful…” She twists her hips around in response to my words, and the motion sends a jolt of pleasure through me. I’m not going to last long in this position, not with the breathtaking visual in front of me: her pussy takes my cock completely, her exposed tits bob around with every movement of her body…

I throw one arm behind me for support as I lean back slightly and start to move. She meets me thrust for thrust, and our position allows my cock to hit that perfect spot inside of her.

 _“FUCK,_ right there!” She sobs in ecstasy as we chase our release, and it takes everything inside of me to formulate the words to praise her.

“Goddammit, Clarke you’re so fucking hot… I love watching your cunt take my cock, baby.”

Clarke cries out, _“Bell, I need—_ ” Before she finishes her sentence, I stroke her folds with my free hand, my fingers touch everything but her throbbing clit. _“PLEASE!”_

As I finally roll her swollen bundle of nerves between my fingers, I tell her, “ _Come for me, baby.”_

She shrieks in rapture as her powerful release causes her to arch her entire body off the floor while her arms flail out to her side. I catch her before she falls back down, then pull her up to meet her in a bruising kiss. I grip her tight against me, one hand around her back, the other behind her head.  I hold her forehead to mine as we share our heaving breaths. The force of her walls as they clench rhythmically around my cock causes the white heat that’s coiled at the base of my spine to finally, _finally_ release so I spill everything I have inside of her. The pleasure of my climax is fucking blinding as she continues to move her hips, her cunt milks my cock until I’m completely spent. We stay wrapped up like this as we come back down, hold onto each other as if we’ll float away if we let go.

“Holy _fuck,_ Clarke…”

She laughs with delight, “Yeah that was… that was fucking _good_.”

 

* * *

 

[Clarke POV]

I still haven’t decided what I want to wear. Sexy but comfortable… those two things seem mutually exclusive. I decide to go with a dark blue corset and complementing short skirt.  The pair hugs my curves so well that when I check myself out in the mirror, I have to remind myself that I can't actually fuck my own reflection... I'll also wear thigh-high sheers with intricate lace at the top, held up by a garter belt.  I haven't decided if I'll wear underwear tonight... For my feet, I have a pair of stiletto pumps that are deceivingly comfortable - they look like they would be painful, but they're actually amazingly pleasant to wear. 

For the trip there, I'm in a comfortable pair of dark blue skinny jeans with a slinky white halter top, covered with a soft sweater cover-up to combat the frigid November temperatures. 

As we’re driving to Lucas’s, Bellamy fills me in on stuff he forgot yesterday. “Tonight, people may come up to talk to us, and you’ll probably notice that they’ll ask my permission before interacting with you.”

I nod, “Is this the whole Dom/sub thing?”

He tilts his head, “It’s a little more than that. A number of couples who come to this party are in Master/slave relationships. The Master/slave dynamic tends to be more… strict.”

“Do they think _we’re_ in a Master/slave thing?”

He laughs, “No. They shouldn’t assume that, and I’ve made no indication that we’re in that kind of relationship. But my reputation precedes me – the group knows that I’m a Dominant through-and-through, so it will be assumed you’re my submissive.”

That piques my curiosity. “What were you like as a Dom? You know, before me.”

He appears to think about his answer, “I don’t know how to answer that, really. I worked with a lot of newer subs, helping them to figure out what _types_ of subs they were.  It's probably why Talia wanted us to meet. I had a lot of subs because of my reputation for 'teaching' them before fully Dominating them.  I didn't interact with them all the same way - I augmented different techniques to help them embrace their submission."  

"What do you mean by 'types' of subs?"

He smirks, "Oh... there are many flavors of submissives.  There are subs who _really_ get off on humiliation - like, the more degrading, the better."

I laugh, "Such as?"

"I had one who liked to be my literal foot stool.  While I watched TV, she would kneel on all fours, like an ottoman." 

I feel my eyes widen, "Seriously?"

He nods, "Yeah.  It was what got her off, made her feel good.  It didn't really make _me_ feel as good to treat her like furniture, so we parted ways amicably and she's found a Dom who meets her needs more... effectively." 

"For the record, if you try to use me as a footstool, I'll break your legs." 

"I don't doubt it.  Don't worry, it's not my thing." 

"So now you've got my attention... What other kinds of subs are there?"

"Well, there was one who found that she wanted to be addressed as 'Kelly-the-Whore' instead of her actual name, which was Ashley... There are some, called "Pet" submissives, who want to be led around on leashes like dogs. Or want me to force them to eat table scraps off the ground. For them, I assumed the role of a 'trainer' or caretaker." 

I raise an eyebrow, "Did you get into that?"  

He shrugs with a slight grimace, "I wouldn't necessarily say I was _into_ it.  But I could meet their needs without feeling shitty about it." 

I nod, "That's... interesting.  What kind of sub am I?"

He laughs with a wicked grin, "You're practically the definition of a Brat submissive.  And pretty close to being a dyed-in-the-wool PainSlut submissive."

I'm not surprised by the appraisal, but I didn't know there were so many categories.  I say with mock offense, "I'm a brat?!"

He gives me a level look, "Clarke, you constantly test my patience in play.  With a fucking smile on your face." 

I laugh, "Yeah, that's kind of a thing for me."

He nods, "Like I said, Brat submissive." 

"Alright, eyes on the road, big guy." 

He goes back to the original topic, "I know I’ve changed some since I’ve been with you.” 

“How so?”

“Well, in the past, I often had more than one sub.”

I laugh teasingly, “Were you a player, Bellamy Blake?”

He sighs, and his face becomes very serious, “No, it’s different in the BDSM context.” He looks nearly offended, so I apologize quickly.

“You’re right. I’m sorry.”

He shakes his head, “There’s a difference. Being a ‘player’ in the mainstream context implies that you’re a tease, or you don’t take the relationships seriously. But that’s not how I was with my submissives.”

I reach my hand over to rest on his forearm, hoping to placate him, “I understand. I shouldn’t have joked around about it. I’m sorry I implied that you were anything less than serious about it. Really, I know better, Bellamy.” As we stop at a red light, I pull his chin to face me. “I’m really sorry, okay?”  

He nods, furrowing his brows. “It’s alright. I just don’t want you thinking I was going around playing with or fucking anything with two legs and a hole.” 

“I don’t think that, Bell. Okay? I know you were very serious. And your reputation preceded you even before I know who “B” was. Talia really wanted us to meet because she said you liked teaching, and you were good at it. That says a lot about you. Nobody ever suggested that you were anything less than a fantastic Dom.”

He nods, appeased. “People know that my relationship with you goes deeper than any of my previous relationships.”

I smile, “Good. Did you like, have to tell them that?”

He shakes his head, “Well, I told them, but there are other indications that things are different.”

"Like?"

“Well, with the multiple subs thing, it was actually _rare_ that I had only one sub at a time.”

“Were you with anyone for a long time?”

He nods, “Yeah, I had one who was with me for nearly two years. But I had others along with her most of the time.”

I nod, “Were you ever anyone’s Master?”

He shakes his head, “That wasn’t really my thing. There was the long-term sub. But I’ve never collared anyone. The long-term sub wanted me to collar her, but I didn’t want to make that kind of commitment to her.”

I raise an eyebrow, “Who?” He pauses, visibly uncomfortable. _Oh, f_ _uck that… his pause tells me exactly who._ “It was Echo, right?”

Bellamy nods, “Yeah, it was her. But it didn’t happen.”

I can’t help but feel a jolt of satisfaction, knowing that Echo must have been painfully aware of the fact that he wouldn’t commit to her.

“Speaking of the bitch, how much do people know about what went down? Like, when she came into town.”

He grimaces, “Well… a lot of them, I guess.”

I flop myself back into my seat. “Are you kidding me? Fuck, Bellamy. What the hell am I walking into?”

He reaches across and takes my hand in his. “It’s not going to be a circus. It probably won’t even be brought up. People aren’t concerned about Echo.”

I scoff, “Fuck, what if she was to show up tonight?”

Bellamy shakes his head, “I made sure that wasn’t going to happen. Lucas knows that I want nothing to do with her. He despises drama, and after the shit she pulled, he knows she’s not welcome. So, she isn’t on the invite list for his private parties anymore. At least not any that I’m invited to.”  

I nod, “Good. Don’t get me wrong. I may have a secret hope to cross paths with her, just so I can punch her pretty face. But I don’t want to do it at a play party.”

Bellamy laughs, “Where, exactly, would this happen?”

I shrug, “I don’t know. Street corner? Photo shoot, maybe?”

He squeezes my hand, “Relax. It is unlikely you will ever have to see her, okay?”

I sigh dramatically, “Unless I’m looking at a goddamn Marc Jacobs ad.”

Bellamy frowns, “What?”

“Yeah, she’s plastered all over the new handbag campaign. I saw it in Vogue the other day. You didn’t know?”

He shakes his head gently, “I told you, Clarke. I don’t care about her. And I don’t read Vogue.”

“Yeah, well… I wasn’t pleased to have to see her expressionless face in _three_ separate ad spaces in the magazine. I think I may just stop reading fashion magazines if her career is going to take off like this.”

He pauses, “Wait, does this have anything to do with the unusual number of hickeys you’ve adorned me with lately?”

I shrug, mumbling under my breath, “Maybe…”

He grins, “Clarke Griffin… jealous.”

I roll my eyes, grumbling, “Yeah, yeah… shut up.”

He squeezes my hand reassuringly, “You have _nothing_ to be jealous of, okay? You never will.”

I squeeze his hand back, “I know. It’s just been irritating to see reminders of _her_ these past few days.”

He frowns, “I’m sorry.”

I shrug, “It’s not your fault. If anything, it’s my fault for not rearranging her facial features when I had the chance.”

Bellamy barks out a laugh, “I’ll make sure to burn any remaining copies of Vogue we have around the house.”

“There aren’t any. Octavia and I took care of that.”

He gives me a questioning, but amused look, “Care to explain how O is involved with this?”

I chuckle, “Well…”

* * *

_Flashback: Earlier this week:_

_Octavia and I are sitting on the couch, flipping through magazines while Pandora is playing in the background. I see a familiar-looking face gracing several pages of Vogue. I can’t quite place her, though. My frown must be evident because Octavia nudges me with her foot. “You look like you’re trying to burn a hole into the page. What are you looking at, Griffin?”_

_I snap out of my thoughts, replying, “This chick, she looks familiar.”_

_Octavia stretches her neck up so she can see. “Oh! Yeah, she’s an up-and-comer in the modeling world. Um… Shit. I forgot her name. It’s totally bat-shit weird. Like, Sonar or something. I don’t know.”_

_I murmur, “Echo.”_

_Octavia jumps, “YES! Echo. That’s her name. She looks-”_

_I interrupt, “Like a raging whore who doesn’t know her goddamn place.”  My reaction surprises me, to be honest.  I did_ not _realize I was still so bent out of shape about her..._

_Octavia shifts away from me on the couch, the expression on her face falling somewhere between alarmed and intrigued. “I was gonna say ‘dead in the eyes.’ But yours works, too. Now I’m curious, what did the model bitch do to you?”_

_I shrug, “Tried to fuck Bellamy.”_

_Octavia frowns, confused. “Wait, what? When was this?”_

_I narrow my eyes, still glaring at the magazine. “Not long ago.”_

_O’s mouth drops open, “No. Fucking. Way. This is the bar whore?”_

_I roll my eyes with a nod, “One in the same.”_

_She takes the magazine out of my lap and looks at the picture more carefully. Then she anticlimactically declares, “Well, fuck her.”_

_I laugh, “Or don’t, please.”_

_O nods, “Good point. But still…”_

_I nod, “Yeah…”_

_She rips the page out of the magazine and stands up (a less-than-graceful attempt, considering her growing belly). She grabs my hand and pulls on it, prompting me to stand up with her. With a smirk, she tells me, “I know what we’re gonna do.”_

* * *

Present day:

Bellamy chuckles, “What did you guys do?”

I shrug, trying to appear nonchalant, “Octavia taped her picture up on the dart board in the garage and we used her as target practice.”

He smirks, “ _Dark_ , Clarke…”

I give a smug grin, “I have to say, I was rather impressed with my aim.”

He laughs again, “Like you need help with your aim? It’s already impeccable.”

I shrug, “Let’s just say I was able to channel my jealous rage into an even _more_ deadly aim.”

He shakes his head, “Oh, Princess…”

We arrive in a really upscale neighborhood in Cherry Hills, giving our names and destination to the guardhouse. He waves us through, as we are apparently on “the list.” As we make our way to Lucas’s house, I’m realizing that whatever he does for a living, he makes a _lot_ of fucking money… Because holy hell...

We pull into the circular driveway and stop in front of the valet. Bellamy pulls our duffel bag of toys out of the back of the vehicle and hands the keys to the guy who will take our car.

"Are there enough of us to need a valet?”

He chuckles, “It’s actually a neighborhood thing – they don’t want just anyone parking on the driveways, so they require residents to use a valet service for parties. There are about 12 couples, plus some poly relationships." 

I nod, nerves starting to set in, “Okay…”

“You ready, Princess?”

I nod with a smile as we arrive at the door. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter(s) will be the actual party. I was going to go straight into it in this chapter, but it was becoming really really long, and this chapter would have been minimum 11k words (and I wasn't even close to being finished with the party scene). As it is, I think this chapter came out to over 6k words.
> 
> I thought you guys might like a taste of what's to come ;-)
> 
> It may stretch out over two more chapters, depending on how much "play" I incorporate. 
> 
> Anyone have any play party requests??? Specific curiosities about kink parties? 
> 
> Again, REVIEWS FEED MY MUSE!!! 
> 
> And, if you haven't left KUDOS, please do so (if you're enjoying this, of course) 
> 
> Thank you all for reading ~


	40. are you ready, princess?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke learns all kinds of new things at her first play party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys are the freaking BEST!!! I loved reading all of your reviews - each one made my day(s) this past week. I've struggled with constructing this chapter, because there's so much happening. .. I was almost ready to throw in the towel for a month because I was getting frustrated. But then I'd read those lovely reviews, and they gave me all kinds of inspiration to keep going. 
> 
> I'll be responding to individual reviews over the next day or so, so if you haven't gotten a reply yet, it's on its way :-)
> 
> It took longer than I planned to get this chapter posted. It is looooooong (10K+ words, I think) and hopefully worth the read :-). And yes, I have at least one more chapter of party (probably 2, depending on response this chapter, *hint*).
> 
> **TRIGGER WARNINGS**  
> Uhm... this is a kink party, so it goes without saying that you will come across some kinky-ass stuff. Some of it may be a little shocking... If you want Clarke to "revisit" any of the mini-scenes from this chapter, say so in the comments!

“As _ready as I’ll ever be.”_

As we walk through the front door, we are greeted by a woman who looks familiar, but I haven’t met. Bellamy greets her with a kiss to the cheek. She laughs, “Oh, B! Fashionably late as always!” She’s dressed in a French maid’s outfit, which is unsurprising, if not a little bit cliché.

Bellamy introduces me to her, “Clarke, this is Lydia.”

I recognize her now from the munch where I reconnected with Bellamy.

She has a sweet smile, “Clarke, it’s so wonderful to formally meet you!”

I smile in return, “You too.”

“I remember seeing you at a few meetings but never got the chance to say hi before this one-“ she gestures at Bellamy “-swept you away!”

I laugh, “Well, better late than never, right?”

She smiles, “Couldn’t have said it better myself.”   She turns her attention to Bellamy. “Lucas said you will be staying in the purple room.”

Bellamy nods, his hand in the small of my back, “That’s correct.”

“You know your way there, right?”

Bellamy nods, “Of course.”

She smiles back, “I’ll let you two go put your things upstairs and get ready. I think almost everyone is here, and the party’s already started downstairs.”

Bellamy smiles, “Thank you, Lydia. We’ll see you downstairs.”

He leads me out of the marble-floored foyer and we reach a gorgeous double staircase, adorned with fine details on the railings and banister. The stairs lead to a landing that overlooks a living room on the other side. I note that all the curtains are drawn in the home, which is comforting, considering the planned activities. Splitting off the landing are two hallways. Bellamy leads us down the hallway to the right, all the way to the last door on the left.

It opens up to a gorgeous guest suite, and the trained eye can see all kinds of kinky uses for the various décor. Like our room at home, there are ceiling rings. Curious, I point up at the rings and ask, “Are those load-bearing?”

Bellamy smirks with a nod, “Good eye, Princess. And yes, they are. They may come into play tonight when we’re done downstairs.”

I nod, feeling my heartrate speed up just a bit at the possibilities. There is a four-poster queen-sized bed, and closer inspection reveals several straps attached to various spots on the bed frame. “They have a transformer bed in here, too!”

Bellamy laughs at my excited anything as he starts unpacking our toys, “Yes, they do. It’s actually where I got most of the ideas for my place back in the day.”

“Back in the day, old man?”

He rolls his eyes, “Hush. Go get dressed.”

I growl, _“Fine…”_

Bellamy straightens up his spine and delivers a dominating glare, “Really, Princess? Do you already need an attitude adjustment?”

I shake my head “No, Sir. I’m sorry.” Honestly, I wouldn’t mind an ‘attitude adjustment,’ as Bellamy calls them ( _Yeah, I’m starting to see what he means by “Brat…”)._ As much as I’d like to push more of his buttons, I don’t want to delay our arrival to the party. I’m itching to get down there already.

He nods, “Good girl. Now dress for me, Princess.”

I comply, stripping completely, revealing my naked form to my loving Dom. My mouth goes dry when my gaze falls on Bellamy, standing tall and domineering, looking hot as fuck in his black T-shirt. It’s a simple T-shirt. It should not do these... _things_ to me. But something about the way it fits his frame just makes me _crazy_ with lust.

He stares me down for what feels like hours and I feel myself writhing inside, but thankfully, I manage to maintain composure.  “Is my dark blue thong in there?”

He smirks, “Oh, it looks like that didn’t make it into the bag…”

I roll my eyes, “That’s a shame… Shall I go without?”

He smiles, “Not quite...”

I frown, “What does that mean?”

He stands dangerously close to me, smirking as he produces a pair of underwear – a contraption, really – with a phallus and clit stimulator attached. An audible gasp escapes me (without my permission – this traitorous body) and Bellamy’s gaze becomes predatory. I hold my hand out for the contraption, but Bellamy shakes his head and drops to his knees. He picks up a knee and places it over his shoulder, then slips his fingers into the folds of my already throbbing pussy. He smiles wickedly as he dips his fingers into me.

“I’m willing to bet you’re excited as hell about this, Princess.” I feel his breath on my mound, and I release a shuddering gasp when he licks my clit teasingly, and a frustrated whine when he pulls his face away. He laughs at my exasperation and I take the opportunity to kick his back _hard_ with my dangling foot, like a spur.

Bellamy’s face hardens and he shakes his head in disappointment, “You’re going to regret that.” I raise a challenging eyebrow, wondering what he’s going to do about it. He narrows his eyes, “Remember what happens when you misbehave?”

I flash a sultry grin, “Many things, Sir.”

He tilts his head to the side with feigned concern, “Oh… Sweetheart. I should have been clearer. Remember what _doesn’t_ happen when you misbehave?”

My mind goes into a near tailspin and I feel my face pale. My voice is small, “You don’t let me come, Sir.” After a few moments, I ask quietly, “Does that mean I don’t get to wear the _thing_?”

He chuckles, “Oh, no, Princess. You’re _going_ to wear it. And you can bet I'm gonna use it.”

I shudder, thinking about the torturous orgasm denial I will endure tonight. He continues the process of putting the _torture device_ , as I’ve now decided it will be called, on/in me. He drops my leg down off of his shoulder. The way he cups his hand behind my thigh and drags it all the way down to my feet has me reeling with desire. He signals for me to step into the panties, one leg after the other, then lifts them up my legs. My entire body shivers as he leaves sharp bites along my outer thigh. He is undoubtedly staking his claim already, which sends my heart soaring. When the panties reach my hips, he lifts my other knee over his shoulder, giving me a warning look in case I’m thinking about kicking him again. He positions the phallus at the entrance of my pussy and slowly pushes it into me. The vibrator is placed perfectly over my clit once that happens, so he sets my leg down and I straighten myself up again as he buckles the sides of the device. 

Bellamy pulls something out of his pocket. It looks like a small remote control, and just as I’m realizing what it will control, he presses a button and my entire body is engulfed in pleasure. My knees threaten to buckle, my hands gripping onto the nearest bedpost for balance. He gives me several blissful minutes of stimulation, and my body is threatening to unravel.  Before I can sail over the edge, he turns the device off and I want to cry from the loss of sensation. 

My breaths are heaving as I recover. I was clearly caught off-guard this time, and I have a feeling this isn’t the only time I’ll be dealing with this.

He smirks, “This is going to be fun…”

“Was it… thrusting inside of me?”

He nods, “It was. Three levels of thrusting, plus a rotating head. And ten vibration patterns for your clit.

I groan, “Oh _god…_ ” I _really_ should have put more thought into my actions. What the _hell_ was I thinking kicking him? What I wouldn’t give for a fucking time machine right now.

He laughs, “Unfortunately, Princess, time travel is still not a possibility.” (I guess my thoughts are escaping my mouth without permission, too.)  

Bellamy doesn’t say anything further, and stands back up and hands me my garter belt, which I fasten skillfully. After the belt is secure, he hands me my black sheer thigh highs, which I pull on smoothly. The practice with these certainly paid off. I had a feeling I’d be dressing _for_ him tonight, so I spent some time yesterday practicing in the mirror so that I wouldn’t look like a fumbling idiot. He hands me the dark blue corset top.

“I’ll need help tightening this, Sir.”

He smiles, “Of course, Princess.”

He watches hungrily as I straighten and stretch my bare torso, making sure I don’t have errant lint or anything sticking to my skin. It would be highly uncomfortable to tighten a corset top only to realize later that something was sticking to the inside of it, being forcefully squeezed into my skin. I loosen the satin ribbons in the back before wrapping the front around me and hooking the front of the bodice together. There are at least twenty tiny hooks, so I’m pleased that I lined it up correctly on the first try. I rearrange my assets inside the corset, and signal Bellamy to cinch up the back.

“You picked well, Princess.” He says as he tightens up the garment just enough to shape my waist without significantly stifling my breathing ability. My breasts are practically spilling out – it’s secure, of course, but it was fitted specifically for me. It was custom made to exact specifications so that my breasts are, without question, the star of the show.

I pull on the mini skirt, which is really just a glorified band of elastic. It’s so short, the lacy details at the top of the thigh-highs can be seen if I pop my hips just right.

My hair is in a deceptively easy up-do. As a nod to my love of rope bondage, it is adorned with rope braid accents along the crown of my head. It’s easily taken down if we opt to use my hair in any bondage scenarios tonight. To finish off the ensemble, I slip on my stilettos, then turn around to face Bellamy.

His mouth just drops open. I see him eyeing his bite marks on my thighs, and I’m a little amused at the relief on his face. It’s obvious that he’s glad he’s marked me so clearly. Not that anyone would challenge him…

I clear my throat to snap him back to reality. “Does this look okay?”

Once his mouth is closed again, he smiles approvingly, “More than okay, Princess. You look fucking incredible.”

I spin around a few times for his benefit, “I look a _little_ like a slut.”

He smirks, “Perfect amount of slut.”

I feel incredibly hot. I look at the mirrors on the wall and inspect myself, giving my own nod of approval.

I see he’s brought several of our floggers, two crops, two different paddles, a _ton_ of rope, and the TENS unit. “Do we take these down there?”

He shakes his head, “No. Tonight, we’ll be walking the floor first. I want you to get a look at everything there is to offer. If you want to try something, we’ll negotiate a scene. If the activity involves any toys, I’ll come back upstairs and retrieve them.”

I nod, and my nervousness must be evident on my face. He stands in front of me, tilting my chin up to look at him. “You don’t have to do _anything_ tonight if you don’t want to, okay?”

I take a deep breath, “Okay.”

He walks to the door. Before opening it, he asks, “Shall we, Princess?”

I nod, “Let’s go.”

He pinches my thigh with a raised eyebrow, and I correct myself. “ _Sir_.”

He smiles, “Good girl.”

 

We head back down the hallway, then down the stairs. We are intercepted by Talia, who looks incredibly excited to see us. “It’s so wonderful to see you both!” She gives Bellamy a huge hug then faces me. She asks Bellamy, “May I?” He nods and Talia pulls me into a tight hug, which I return happily. “I’m so glad you could make it.” Talia is the only one I’ve really kept in contact with since the munch all those months ago. She and I meet up for coffee about once a month to catch up and fill each other in on everything.

I nod with a nervous smile, “First time with this sort of thing, so…”

Talia tilts her head meaningfully, “There’s nothing to be scared of. There’s a lot of fun waiting for you! You guys ready to go down?”

I nod and Bellamy’s hand returns to the small of my back. It’s immensely soothing to feel him there. I thought I’d be offended by the whole “ask-Bellamy-before-talking-to-Clarke” thing, but I find it oddly comforting. Like I’m under his protection, which is especially nice considering the novelty of this situation.

Talia leads us through the kitchen and through a benign-looking door that opens to normal staircase. When the door opens, I can hear the beat of the music coming from the basement. We descend to the bottom of the stairs and I take a moment to drink it all in before walking into the first area.

 

Bellamy starts explaining, “This is the 'social area,' where we can all just hang out and mingle. There’s also food available around here. Drinks are available at the bar. There will also be servers bringing trays of hors d’oeuvres around. The food is amazing. If you don’t want to wait for a server, you can ask for something at the bar, too.” I take in my surroundings, feeling entranced like a little kid at an amusement park. The social area is a low-lit room with red walls. There are various seating options, including a large black leather sectional in a unique curved pattern. Despite the red and black dominance of the colors, the room has more of a modern stylish vibe than a gothic dungeon. 

I do a double-take when I see that the coffee table in front of the couch is, in fact, a cage of some sort. There’s a man inside of it, curled up like a dog. I elbow Bellamy and he smirks at my surprised expression.

“That’s Tab. His Domme, Lara, sometimes puts him into the slave cage.”

“Which one is Lara?”

He points to the sofa, and I nod as I observe the three people sitting there, engaged in conversation and purposefully oblivious to the coffee table guest, just setting their drinks on the surface above him.

“Lara is the blonde woman in the middle.” I chuckle at the fact that they’re taking special care to use coasters, but completely ignoring the gentleman sitting in the cage at their feet.

Bellamy waves at a group of people chatting by the bar, which I notice has no alcohol lining the shelves behind the counter. Bellamy answers my question before I ask it, “Generally, mind-altering substances are not permitted at Lucas’s parties.”

“Is that a safety thing?”

He nods as he signals the bartender, asking for two water bottles, “Yeah. The things we do aren’t safe to begin with. It would be stupid to add alcohol to the mix. Not to mention, people here are chasing a high achieved through different means.”

I crack the seal on my water bottle after he hands it to me. “Makes sense.”

 

We are approached by two naked women carrying trays of hors d’oeuvres. As they come near, I see that they are adorned with clamps connected with chains. Upon closer inspection, I realize that the women are connected to _each other_ by chains – one woman’s right nipple is chained to the other woman’s right nipple, same thing with their left nipples. My gaze travels lower and I see the same setup with clamps attached to their labia. They are followed by a woman with a crop in hand, using it to guide the chained women in the desired direction.

The taller girl speaks to Bellamy, “Sir, may I interest you in Prosciutto Wrapped Goat Cheese and Figs?” Bellamy nods and thanks them as he takes one off the tray.    

The shorter girl addresses me, “You want some?”

I decline, too amped-up to eat anything right now. The woman behind them shakes her head, looking very disappointed in short girl. “ _Doll_ ,” she growls, slapping the crop sharply to the shorter girl’s thigh. Short girl jumps in response, which causes the chains attached to both women to jerk. Tall girl looks thoroughly annoyed with short girl. After chastising short girl, she commands her, “Now, doll, ask her properly.”

Short girl addresses me again, “Miss, may I interest you in some Prosciutto Wrapped Goat Cheese and Figs?”

I smile and accept with a thank-you, not wanting to get short girl in trouble again. She smiles sweetly, “Thank you, miss.”

Both girls turn back to Bellamy. The short one asks suggestively, “Is there any way we may service you, Sir?”

I raise an eyebrow as Bellamy shakes his head with a chuckle, “No, thank you.”

The tall one tilts her head my direction, “Is there any way we may service her?”

Bellamy looks at me thoughtfully, and my eyes widen, wondering if he’s actually considering their offer to "service" me. I'm not necessarily opposed to the idea, but I haven't even seen the play room yet. 

I give a barely perceptible shake of my head, which Bellamy acknowledges. “Not right now, Ladies. We’ve only just arrived.” The girls move on after that, their disciplinarian in tow.  The Domme gives Bellamy and I a respectful nod of the head as a way of greeting as she walks by. 

I ask Bellamy, “Are they new or something? What’s going on with them? Tall girl looked pissed at short girl.”

He shakes his head, “No, they’re not new. The shorter one, Annemarie might be considered ‘new,’ since she’s only been part of their relationship for the last nine or so months. The taller girl, Lena has been Lady Portia’s collared slave for about four years. Lady Portia makes them do service work when one of them has been naughty.”

I nod, “So one is bad and they both get punished?”

Bellamy nods, “That’s how Portia does it.”  

“That’s an interesting dynamic.”

Bellamy shrugs with a chuckle as he guides me to continue our exploration of this new, fantastic place. 

 

We make our way out of the social area to the main room. It’s _massive_. Bellamy explains that while we’re in here, people are in scene, and we need to keep our voices down so that we don’t interrupt their vibe. In the center of the room, a St. Andrew’s cross is being set up by a few people. Off to the side, I can see thick metal pillars with rings positioned at different heights. My gaze travels again and lands on a large square frame, again, with many rings and connectors. It certainly piques my interest.

Along one side of the large room, there are several doors, each opening up to smaller, private rooms. I remember Bellamy telling me about those.   _Sometimes many people involved in sexual acts…_ I can see inside the ones that are unoccupied. They are about the size of my bedroom at my old apartment. One of them has a queen-sized bed inside. Another is empty of any furniture save for a bondage bench. Each room is outfitted with many hooks and a few shelves along the walls, presumably to hang floggers and other instruments while using the room. I can’t see what’s happening behind the closed doors, but I’m eager to find out eventually.

 

In one of the side rooms, I see a woman sitting cross-legged on the floor with a man’s head in her lap. She’s stroking his hair and they’re in their own little world. Bellamy sees me watching them and tells me, “That’s Anna and her Master, Damian.”

I raise my eyebrows, “She’s the slave? Why is _he_ the one on the floor like that?”

He shrugs giving me a pointed look, "You know better than anyone that eaveryone recovers from a scene differently.”

I nod, immediately feeling like an idiot for making assumptions. There have been several times when I’ve held Bellamy after a scene, especially those involving heavy punishments. It’s sweet to witness their tender moment, and I feel like I might be intruding on their intimacy, even though I’m just watching. I avert my eyes as we move on.

 

In one corner, there is a huge metal structure that looks like a massive tripod. “That’s a Tetruss frame. It’s very versatile.”

I nod, “I bet it is.”

Bellamy smirks, “You’ll see many uses for it tonight.”

“Like what?”

“It’s very strong, so we use it with suspension bondage. That’s what I usually use it for, anyway.”

The possibilities seem endless in that way. Bellamy and I have been dabbling in suspension bondage. Well, Bellamy is experienced in it, but we’ve only just now started doing it together. He can make it relaxing for me, or he can make it taxing, depending on his purpose. Sometimes he uses it in with predicaments, which is exciting for both of us…

 

We continue wandering around the main room until we come to the next scene. Underneath a large wooden frame is a woman, nude and blindfolded, whose arms are outstretched, in a “Y” shape above her head. Her wrists are inside of leather cuffs that have handles attached to them, which is a useful feature if you’re wanting to be able to pull yourself up. Her legs are held wide apart by a spreader bar.

The woman is being topped by a man who, according to Bellamy, refers to himself as Master Victor in our crowd. I watch their scene for a bit. He’s got a crop in one hand and a vibrator in the other. He addresses her as _Cumslut_ , and she is practically glowing when she hears it.  

“Cumslut, I’m going to spank your pussy.”

 _“Yes,_ Master!”

“Do you like your pussy spanked, Cumslut?” He whips at her pussy with the crop, and it’s clear that she’s gushing. If the juices gathered on her inner thigh weren’t glaringly obvious, the wet squishing sound that is heard when the crop slaps at her pussy would be a clear indication of the sheer arousal seeping out of the woman.

“Oh, YES! YES MASTER!” He alternates painful-looking hits to her pussy with caresses by the vibrator, occasionally caressing her cunt with the keeper of the crop. This appears to be sending her through the roof. She’s arching her back, begging for more.

“ _Please_ , Master! More!”

He whacks at her cunt with the crop and she shrieks, her entire body seizing up in pain. Or maybe pleasure...

“Thank you Master! May I have another?!” She is so genuinely enthusiastic about this, and it’s... remarkable to see.

Another hit, “Thank you Master! May I have another?!”

As I stand there, mesmerized by the scene, the phallus inside of my own pussy suddenly begins to rotate and thrust inside of me and I have to stifle an embarrassingly wanton moan in response to the surging fake cock inside of me. My water bottle drops out of my hands, and Bellamy catches it with cat-like reflexes before it hits the ground. He keeps the intensity of the contraption low, just enough to be there, but not enough to take me over the edge.

Seeing how difficult it is for me to maintain composure, Bellamy walks me back to a private room, the dildo still writhing around inside of me. I’m trying to maintain coherence as he pushes me past the door into the room with a couch. As soon as he closes the door, he dips his head down, voice graveled next to my ear, “These walls are sound-insulated, so let me hear you, Princess.”

I flail back against the wall with a guttural moan, “Oh, _god…_ That feels incredible.” He smirks, pulling the little remote out of his pocket and turning the clit vibrator on. I yelp in response as my knees buckle and I begin to slide down the wall. Bellamy catches me quickly and lifts me back up, pushing me into the wall and slanting his mouth over mine in a breathtaking kiss that effectively swallows my needy cries.

I pull up for air, the pleasure coiling in the base of my abdomen, “Oh, god, Sir! I’m so close… I need to—”

He pulls away with a wicked laugh, turning off the vibrator. The absence of sensation is nearly painful.

I whimper, closing my eyes in disappointment, “Please, Sir. I was so close! And it felt so, _so_ good.”

He shakes his head, “Remember this feeling next time you think you want to kick me.”

I drop my head back against the wall, frustrated with myself for being so impulsive earlier. I sigh in resignation, “I will.”

“That’s my good girl.”

I take a deep breath, refusing to show how incredibly affected I am by the coarseness of his dominating voice.

He hands my water bottle back to me and opens the door, guiding me back out into the main room, reveling in the _need_ that is emanating from me.

 

With Bellamy’s hand resting at the small of my back, we continue to walk around the edges of the main room. I’m taking in the surroundings. In front of me is a man strapped to a piece of furniture clearly designed for humiliation. It’s a wooden bench with a stockade attached for his wrists and neck. His ankles are cuffed to the bottom and his legs are spread apart, but the defining feature is the hole through which his cock is being held. It’s swollen and purple, and it looks extremely painful.

I whisper to Bellamy, “What’s happening there?”

“That’s CBT.”

“What’s that stand for?”

“Cock and Ball Torture.”

My eyes are widened to cartoon-like proportions, “Ouch.” It’s a little too uncomfortable for me to see, so I don’t stick around to watch, not wanting to disrupt the scene with the discomfort that may or may not be reeling off of me. I nudge Bellamy to casually keep walking, and we continue walking around until we are near the social area again.

 

We are approached by a gentleman who knows Bellamy. Like everyone else, he greets Bellamy as “B” and they exchange brief pleasantries. The man looks at me, then at Bellamy, “May I?”

Bellamy narrows his eyes thoughtfully, “You may touch her hand. _Nothing_ else.”

He smiles gently and brings my hand to his lips, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, dear. I’m Magnus.”

I smile back, “Thank you. I’m Clarke. It’s nice to meet you as well.”

He grins, “Is King B going to be doing any ropes tonight?”

Bellamy casually interjects with a shrug, “That hasn’t been discussed.”

Magnus whispers in my ear, “We call him the King of the ropes, for reasons I’m sure you’re well aware.”

I nod, smiling, “I am.”

He pats Bellamy on the shoulder, giving me a once-over, “That is a lovely sub you’ve got there, B.”

Bellamy nods with a smile, siding up in a near territorial fashion, “She absolutely is.”

Magnus departs, promising he’ll see us again before the night is over.

 

I turn around to face Bellamy, “Magnus?! Did his parents give him that name?”

Bellamy chuckles, “I honestly don’t know.”

“Then perhaps he's compensating?”

Bellamy laughs, “Uh, no compensation necessary in his case.”

I raise an eyebrow, “You know this how?”

He rolls his eyes looking pointedly at the side rooms, “Let’s just say we’ve been _involved_ in shared scenes in the past.”

I nod, my mind swimming with all kinds of depraved possibilities.

Bellamy whispers in my ear, “Curious, Princess?”

My breath hitches at his closeness and I nod slowly, “Perhaps…”

He gives me a knowing grin, “Noted.”

I give him a smile, “So, they call you King of the Ropes?”

He smiles, “I kind of used to do them at a lot of parties.”

I nod, “Why not tonight?”

He shrugs, “I didn’t want to make a promise to them I wasn’t willing to keep.”

“What do you mean?”

“I hadn’t discussed it with you first, and I don’t want you to feel pressured to do anything on your first night.”

I nod, “Oh… Well I’d be okay with it. It’s not like it’s videotaped, or anything, right?”

He shakes his head, “No. No taping or photography of any kind. But really, you don’t have to do this, Clarke.”

I smile, taking his hand in mine, “I want to. Why, do _you_ not want to?”

He grins, “Of course I do.”  

I nod, “Then let’s do it.”  

He looks me over, “Do you have anything else to wear? I was thinking of doing a suspension or semi-suspension rig, but I your corset top will not play well with that kind of rope work.”

“Um, I could check… Is it not okay to go without clothing?”

Bellamy chokes on the water he was sipping, the surprise on his face evident. “No, that’s perfectly fine. Encouraged, even. I just didn’t think _you’d_ be okay with that.”

I laugh, “What happens here stays here. And I’m feeling a little... adventurous. I’m up to do an entire scene out there.”

He shakes his head, pulling me into him and slanting his mouth over mine in a short but demanding kiss, “You’re fucking incredible, Princess.”

I smile against his lips, “I know.”

He squeezes his arms around my waist, “Let’s run it by Lucas. Then we’ll need to go to a quiet place and negotiate the scene. This is different than doing this in the bedroom.”

I nod, “Agreed. Is there somewhere well-lit? Like, without mood lighting. Or music that makes me want to strip down and fuck you...” He closes his eyes and blows out a huff of air pulling me close and rolling his hips into mine, giving me a sense of exactly how aroused he is. I chuckle, “Because right now, I’m so fucking worked up, I’m pretty sure I’ll agree to anything.”

He shakes his head, as if to clear his d “No, you’re right. We need to have clear heads for this. We’ll go upstairs to the library. It’s quiet, normal lighting. Lucas will need us to do a contract before using the equipment, anyway.”

Lucas is speaking with someone on the opposite corner of the room, so we make our way there, passing again by the spot where the gentleman is being cock-and-ball tortured.

When Lucas sees Bellamy, he comes over and greets us, pulling Bellamy into a strong “guy hug.”

“Look who finally graces us with his presence!”

Bellamy laughs as he returns to my side, “Yeah, yeah. I’ve been a little busy… Work, moving.”

Lucas lights up, turning to face me, “That’s right, I heard you guys found a place together.”

I’m certain I’m beaming at this point, “We did. We’re still settling in.”

“I’m happy for you two. I’ll say, it was a hell of a shock when we found out you and B… knew each other already.”

I laugh, “Not nearly as shocked as I was to see him there.”

Lucas has a warm smile, “I remember when you walked in that first day – you looked like a deer in the headlights.”

I feel myself blushing, remembering how nervous I was to take that first step and walk into the restaurant. “You guys were awesome, though. And Talia’s energy, you know how warm and welcoming she is, she made me feel really… _happy_ to be there.”

He looks pleased, “That’s Talia. And she was brilliant – wanting you to meet B. Even without your history together, B would have been an excellent guide in figuring out what you wanted.”

My gaze travels over to Bellamy and I can feel the happiness in my heart evidencing itself on my face, “He’s done just that. He’s opened my mind up in ways I couldn’t imagine before.”

Bellamy pulls me into his arms, “She’s who I was waiting for.”

Lucas glances between us with a knowing nod, “I can see that.”

He smiles, “Talia about had a field day. You two have unintentionally validated all of her matchmaking endeavors, FYI.”

Bellamy rolls his eyes with a grin, “Sorry about that.”

Lucas shakes his head with a laugh, “We’re all really happy for you two, really. We’re glad you could make it.” He directs his attention towards me again, “And, we’re very happy you’re here.”

Bellamy pipes up, “Do you think we could get the floor in a few hours for some rope work?”

Lucas smiles, “Of course. Are you guys going to do a suspension?”

“We’re not sure yet. We need to work out the details. We’re going to scene up there, too. We’re going to go back upstairs if that’s alright, to work that out.”

“Absolutely. Are you going to need ropes? We have a selection of new rope available if you need.”

Bellamy thinks for a second, “If we do a suspension rig, yeah we might need some rope. I brought some in case we wanted to use it upstairs later, but I didn’t plan on suspension when we were packing this evening. We’ll pay you back if we use yours.”

Lucas shakes his head, “No need, B. I’ll make sure you have the floor in, say, two and a half hours? That should give you guys enough time to complete the usual contract.”

Bellamy asks him, “Are you and Talia up for being a spotters for us?”

Lucas nods, “Of course. Actually, Talia can’t tonight, but Mandy said she’d be happy to do it if needed.”

Bellamy looks at me and nods, “I think that will be perfect. We’ll be back down in a little while.”

Lucas tips his head toward the staircase, “Have at it. You know your way around.”

Bellamy and I use a laptop to fill out Lucas’s mandatory session contract. We provide the contract to Lucas so that he knows the limits and boundaries of the scene. It’s a safety measure, so that if he sees something that may be alarming, he knows whether or not it’s something the parties consented to beforehand. It helps keep the players in check, making sure they are staying within their pre-determined parameters.

* * *

 

* * *

 

**BDSM SESSION CONTRACT**

**PEOPLE :  
**

  * Participants & Roles: _ Bellamy Blake (Dominant, Top), Clarke Griffin (submissive, bottom). _
  * May the submissive “switch” roles? _No._
  * Spotters/Scene support: _ Mandy Jessup, Lucas Porter _
  * Type of Scene: _B &D, D&S, S&M: Rope bondage (suspension) scene between Dominant/submissive, Master/slave scene, S&M elements to be included._  
Estimated Duration of scene: _45 minutes – 1 hour_  
Beginning signal: _Dominant will ask, “Are you ready, Princess?” Scene will begin when submissive says “Yes, Sir.”_  
Ending Signal: _Will verbalize “We’re all done.” OR if Hard-stop safe word (“RED”) is called._



****

SAFETY:  
The following is available courtesy of the house:  
Paramedic scissors, Fire extinguisher, First aid kit, Blackout lights, Flashlight, Bolt cutters, Extra keys to all locks provided by house

If suspension bondage is planned, Panic Clips MUST be used  
If locks are used other than those provided by the house, extra keys MUST be provided to dungeon master

**OBEDIENCE :  
**

  * Will submissive promptly obey the Dominant? _ Yes, or she will be punished_
  * May the Dominant “overpower” or “force” the submissive? _ Yes, within the submissive's limits_
  * May the submissive verbally resist? _ Yes, but she may be forced to obey within her limits_
  * May the submissive physically resist? _ Yes, but she may be forced to obey within her limits_
  * The submissive agrees to address the Dominant by what title? _ “Sir”_
  * The Dominant will address the submissive with the following term(s): “ _Princess” “Slut” (and variations)_



LIMITS:  
Bottom’s HARD limits: _  
_

  * _ mummification, being sold/traded/given away, scat play, bestiality,  urinary catheters, pony play, puppy play, vinyl body suits, serving as ashtray, serving as furniture, tattooing, photography, videoed scenes_



Top’s HARD limits:

  * _Blood play, auctioning my sub, needle play, injections, cutting, bestiality, scat play, tattooing, photography, videoed scenes,_



**_PHYSICAL HEALTH OF THE BOTTOM : _ **

Health History (answer yes/no; explanation if necessary):

  * Heart problems: _ No_
  * Liver problems: _ No_
  * Lung problems: _ No_
  * Neck/Back/Joint probs: _ No_
  * Kidney problems: _ No_
  * Nervous system problems: _No_
  * Contact Lenses worn? _ No_
  * Pace Maker? _ No_
  * Drug Metering Pumps (e.g., insulin): _ No_
  * Seizures or epilepsy: _ No_
  * Dizzy Spells: _ No_
  * Diabetes: _ No_
  * Hyperglycemia: _ No_
  * Hypertension: _ No_
  * Asthma: _ No_
  * Syncope (fainting) _ No_
  * Cardiac Dysrhythmias: _ No_
  * Panic Attacks: _ Yes, Top aware of history, knows how to address if one should occur_
  * Surgical Implants _: No_  
Phobias: _ No_  
Piercings:                          _Ears  
_



MEDICATIONS: _  
_

  * NSAID’s taken recently: _ No_
  * Antihistamines: _ No_
  * Blood-thinners or platelet-inhibitors: _ No_
  * Medications that affect consciousness: _ No_
  * On any mind-altering substances (including any illicit or non-illicit drugs that may affect judgment or level of consciousness): _ No _



ALLERGY HISTORY:

  * Bondage tape: _ No_
  * Latex _: No_
  * Other known allergies: _ None known _



IN CASE OF EMERGENCY, NOTIFY: _Bellamy is Clarke’s emergency contact. IF HE IS INCAPACITATED, notify Octavia Blake _

** PHYSICAL HEALTH OF THE TOP **

Health History (answer yes/no; explanation if necessary):

  * Heart problems: _ No_
  * Liver problems: _ No_
  * Lung problems: _ No_
  * Neck/Back/Joint probs: _ No_
  * Kidney problems: _ No_
  * Nervous system problems: _No_
  * Contact Lenses worn? _ No_
  * Pace Maker? _ No_
  * Drug Metering Pumps (e.g., insulin): _ No_
  * Seizures or epilepsy: _ No_
  * Dizzy Spells: _ No_
  * Diabetes: _ No_
  * Hyperglycemia: _ No_
  * Hypertension: _ No_
  * Asthma: _ No_
  * Syncope (fainting) _ No_
  * Cardiac Dysrhythmias: _ No_
  * Panic Attacks: _ No_
  * Surgical Implants _: No  
_Phobias: _ None  
_Piercings:                        _None_



_MEDICATIONS :  
_

  * NSAID’s taken recently: _ No_
  * Antihistamines: _ No_
  * Blood-thinners, platelet-inhibitors: _ No_
  * Medications that affect consciousness _: No_
  * On any mind-altering substances (including any illicit or non-illicit drugs that may affect judgment or level of consciousness): _ No_



IS DOMINANT CURRENTLY CERTIFIED IN FIRST AID & CPR: _ Yes_

ALLERGY HISTORY:

  * Bondage tape: _ No_
  * Latex: _ No_
  * Other known allergies: _ None known _
  * IN CASE OF EMERGENCY, NOTIFY: _Clarke is Bellamy’s emergency contact. IF UNAVAILABLE, notify Octavia Blake _



**_SEX :_ **

  * Does any participant believe they might have any STI (sexually transmitted infection)? _No_  
Does any participant believe they might have hepatitis? _ No  
_Have participants been tested for HIV? _Yes_  
Have either tested HIV positive? _No_



**_SEXUAL ACTS :_ **

Check off which of the following sexual acts are acceptable and state whether it is top-to-bottom, bottom-to-top, or both:

  * Masturbation: _ Yes – both _
  * Fellatio: _ Yes – Bottom-to-top _
  * Cunnilingus: _ Yes – Top-to-bottom _
  * Rimming: _ Yes – both _
  * Anal Fisting: _ No _
  * Vaginal Fisting: _ No _
  * Vaginal Intercourse: _ Yes _
  * Anal Intercourse: _ No _
  * Anal play (e.g., with toys) _Yes – both_
  * Is swallowing of semen acceptable? _ Yes _



_  
_

**TOYS : **

  * Will sex toys such as vibrators, dildos, butt plugs, etc. be used? _ Yes  
_If so, describe them: _ Any or all: vibrator, dildo, Anal plug (possibly)_
  * Which of the above activities will involve condoms, gloves, dental dams and/or other barriers _: Condoms must be used during Intercourse (should intercourse occur), to prevent spillage of semen onto play floor _



**BONDAGE : **

The bottom agrees to allow the following types of bondage:

  * Hands in front: _ Yes_  
Hands behind: _ Yes_  
Ankles: _ Yes_  
Knees: _ Yes_  
Elbows: _ Yes_  
Wrists to ankles (hog-tie):Yes  
Tied to chair: _ Yes_  
Tied to bed: _ Yes_  
Tied to table       _Yes_  
Blindfold use _ Yes_  
Gags (Cloth) _ Yes_  
Bit Gag  _ NO_  
Gags (ball) _ NO_  
Full head hood: _ NO_  
Stocks _ NO_  
Armbinders _ NO – but rope-made armbinders (e.g. dragonfly sleeves) are acceptable_  
Rope Bondage _ Yes_  
Shibari (intricate Japanese rope _bondage): Yes_  
Rope Harness: _ Yes_  
Breast Binding _ Yes_  
Spreader Bars:    _Yes_  
Use of tape: _ Yes_  
Leather cuffs: _ Yes_  
Metal cuffs: _ NO_  
Mummification:  _NO_  
Use of Chains:    _NO_  
Plastic Wrap:      _NO_  
Suspension Gloves: _ Yes  
_Suspension boots:  _Yes_ _  
_ Cages: _ NO_
  * Acceptable degree of immobility/helplessness: _ Anything UP TO BUT EXCLUDING mummification _



**_ SADISM & MASOCHISM _ **

  * Bottom’s general attitude about receiving pain: _ Enjoys  
_Quantity of pain bottom wants to receive _: Large_
  * Top’s general attitude about giving pain: _ Enjoys  
_Quantity of pain top wants to give: _Large_
  * The submissive agrees to the following types of pain:  
Spanking: _ Yes_  
Flogging: _ Yes_  
Strapping (full body beatings): _Yes_  
Cropping: _ Yes_  
Paddling: _ Yes_  
Caning: _ Yes_  
Breast whipping:  _Yes_   
Tickling: _ NO_  
Hair pulling: _ Yes_  
Face Slaps: _ NO_  
Cutting: _ NO_  
Catheterization:   _NO_  
Biting: _ Yes_  
Branding: NO  
Nipple Clamps: _ Yes_  
Nipple Weights:   _Yes_  
Genital Clamps: _ Yes, but not directly on clit. Top may pinch with fingers, but not mechanical objects_  
Clamps elsewhere: _Yes – arms, thighs, torso, buttocks, breasts. NOT ON FACE_  
Piercing (temp) _ NO_  
Piercing (permanent) _: NO_  
Hot creams: _ No_  
Ice: _ Yes_  
Hot wax: _ Yes  
_Other acceptable methods/types of pain _: Pinching, clothespins (see “clamps” for parameters), violet wand,_
  * Signals used to indicate the submissive’s readiness to receive pain: _presenting, begging, disobedience, behavioral reward, Dominant’s discretion_
  * Submissive’s typical visible reaction to receiving pain: _grimace, cries, stoic, resistance, pleasure_
  * Signal to indicate the submissive has had enough pain: _Safe Words, orgasm, ball drop (if ball in use)_
  * Other S&M Activities: _  
_ Asphyxiation _ No  
_Choking _ No_



**_ MARKING: _ **

  * Is it acceptable to the submissive if the play leaves marks: _ Yes_  
The following marks are acceptable: _Abrasions, bruises, clip marks, cuff marks, welts, rope marks_  
Must be coverable by clothing? _ Yes_  
Must be coverable by swimsuit?: _No  
_ Is it acceptable to the submissive if play draws small amounts of blood? _Yes, but no purposeful cutting_  
Has it been substantially easy or difficult to mark the submissive in the past? _No_



** HUMILIATION:  
**

  * The submissive agrees to be referred to by the following terms _: “ Princess,” “Slut” (and variations)_
  * The bottom agrees to the following forms of erotic humiliation:  
“Verbal Abuse _” Yes_  
Enemas _ NO_  
Spitting _ Yes  
_Water sports       _NO_  
Scat games _ NO_



** SAFE WORDS **

  * Safe word #1 & its meaning: _ RED: Full-stop, end scene and talk to me, may NOT resume scene after. _
  * Safe word #2 & its meaning: _ YELLOW: slow down and talk to me_
  * Safe word #3 & its meaning: _ GREEN: Keep going, I’m doing fine. _
  * Check-in word & meaning: _ CHERRIES: I’m still with you and coherent._
  * Non-verbal safe words:  _ BALL DROP: If bottom drops ball during play, top will check if it was an accident or if she has entered a state of being unable to call safe word. _
  * Will squeeze-test be used?            _Yes if necessary_
  * Safe-call set up? _ Yes_



** FOLLOW-UP _:_ ** _  
_

  * Will parties engage in aftercare? _ Yes – will perform aftercare in quiet, in a side room_



**REITERATION OF HOUSE RULES** (Initial each rule to acknowledge)

_I UNDERSTAND AND AGREE:_

_CG/BB _ **PARTICIPANTS MUST NOT BE INTOXICATED OR TAKE INTOXICANTS OF ANY KIND BEFORE OR DURING PLAY (this includes alcohol, marijuana, prescription drugs, and illicit drugs)**

 _ CG/BB _ **SAFETY CLIPS absolutely MUST be used for suspension bondage**

 _CG/BB _ **SAFE WORDS: MUST be used (even if participants are personally in a “no safe word” relationship, they must be established and utilized in this establishment. The default is Red/Yellow/Green.)**

 _CG/BB _ **DURING SEXUAL INTERCOURSE, condoms must be worn during play on the main floor to contain bodily fluids. Note: this does not apply for fellatio if swallowing.**

 _CG/BB _ **ONLY the individuals specifically named above (“Participants”) may participate in the scene. Audience members shall NOT participate in the scene.**

 _ CG/BB  _ **NO PHOTOGRAPHY OR VIDEOGRAPHY OF ANY KIND PERMITTED AT THIS ESTABLISHMENT**

One copy of this form is to be provided to each participant, and one copy will be kept on file as legal proof of age and agreement to participate.

We, the undersigned BDSM Session Participants (“The Participants”) agree to the terms and limitations established by this Contract. NO CHANGE IS TO BE MADE IN-SESSSION UNLESS NOTED IN AMENDMENT TO THIS CONTRACT PRIOR TO SAID CHANGE BEING ENACTED.

The participants certify that this Agreement is being executed of their own free will without threat or coercion of any form. Furthermore it is being executed with full prior knowledge of the unsafe nature of the activities listed, including potential for physical, psychological, and/or legal harm. Participants agree to hold without fault all other participants for the same excepting where said Participants engage in violation of terms and limitations set forth by this agreement.

Participants certify that they are above the legal age of consent for the State of Colorado and have submitted proof attached hereto.

If any court determines that any provision of this Agreement is invalid or unenforceable, any invalidity or unenforceability will affect _only_ that provision and will not make any other provision of this Agreement invalid or unenforceable and such provision shall be modified, amended, or limited only to the extent necessary to render it valid and enforceable.

**Signed:**

_Bellamy Blake  
_ Bellamy Blake (Dominant)

 _Clarke Griffin_  
Clarke Griffin (submissive)

 _Mandy Jessup_  
Mandy Jessup (support)

 _Lucas Porter_  
Lucas Porter (support)

* * *

 

* * *

 

After Bellamy and I finish and sign the rather extensive paperwork, we take it downstairs for it to be signed, then reviewed by Lucas and Mandy, who volunteered to be spotters during the scene. Once that’s taken care of, Bellamy and I go back up to get prepared for the scene.

We are practically running up the stairs with excitement. Before deciding to physically exert myself, I didn’t account for the fact that I’m completely unable to take a deep breath in this corset. We make it back upstairs to our room and I start to feel dizzy. I step out of my stilettos because I don’t want to be dealing with them as my steps become wobbly. Bellamy clutches my shoulders in his hands and pivots me around to face him, clearly alarmed by my sudden change in demeanor.

“Clarke, baby. What’s going on?”

My breaths are heavy and _fast_. He realizes the hyperventilating must be making my situation worse, so he pleads for me to slow down.

“I can’t—I can’t—breathe!” Now the panic is setting in and my body is shaking. “I need this—OFF!” I’m tearing at my bodice, unable to make any progress because it’s tied from the back. Within seconds, Bellamy has pulled the scissors out and sliced through the ribbon laced through the back of the corset, which automatically loosens the bindings around my waist. I hear another set of _snip_ sounds and the pressure around my ribcage suddenly decreases. Relief overcomes me as I finally take a deep breath.

My vision goes black.

I hear Bellamy’s voice calling me, but it sounds like it’s coming from behind glass or something, “Clarke! Clarke!” I feel his fingers lightly slapping my cheeks and that brings me back to reality. I blink my eyes rapidly, as if that will dissolve the confused stares coming from Bellamy. I can feel that I’m on the bed now, and my corset is definitely no longer on me. Bellamy’s face comes back into focus, “Clarke, what the hell?”

I shrug, dazed, “I think I should have eaten something downstairs after all.”

He sighs, “When did you last eat?”

“Uhmm… this morning… maybe?”

He lets out a long, frustrated breath and drops his forehead down on my chest. He lifts his head back up and tells me sternly, “Clarke, you have. To. Fucking. Eat.”

I nod, averting my gaze to the wall, “I know. I just…” I trail off.

He raises an eyebrow, “You just what?”

I shrug again, “I just, was nervous, I guess. You know how I get!” I’m blinking back the tears that are stinging my eyes as small tears fall from the corners, “I’m sorry.”

Wiping my tears off my cheek, he shakes his head with a sweet smile, “I reminded you, several times, to eat today...”

I shrug sheepishly, “I know, I just… didn’t. Obviously.”

He laughs, “Yeah. Okay… Okay.” He gets up off the bed. He cracks the seal on a bottle of Gatorade and hands it to me. “Drink this down. Will you be okay alone for a few minutes while I go downstairs and get you something to eat?”

I nod, greedily swallowing the sugary drink, grateful for the carbohydrates my body was lacking after unintentionally starving myself all day.

“Okay. I’ll be back in a few.” He departs as I lay back and close my eyes, trying to figure out where everything went wrong, why I passed out like that. I open my eyes again when I hear the door handle open. Bellamy comes back in bearing a tray of cheeses, deli meats, and baguette slices.

My eyes widen at the appetizing spread of food, “That looks delicious.”

He nudges me, “Good. Now _eat_.”

I’m making headway on the platter when he starts lecturing me. “That could have been really bad, Princess.”

I sigh exaggeratedly, “I know.”

He huffs a forced laugh, “Do you? Because what if that had happened on the floor? In the middle of a rig?”

I roll my eyes dramatically, which he clearly doesn’t appreciate because next thing I know, he lands a stinging slap on my inner thigh. I flinch, straightening my posture “I’m sorry, Sir.” He nods and tells me to finish the plate.

As I finish up the food he brought up, I ask, “Can we still play tonight?”

He nods, “I don’t know. That depends. How are you feeling right now?”

I shrug, “A lot better. Back to normal, actually.”

“Okay. I’ll keep an eye on you for a little while. As long as it was _just_ from the lack of food."

“I think the reason I passed out was because I compounded the hypoglycemia with the decision to physically exert myself by practically racing to get up here, when my clothing was too restrictive. I couldn’t breathe, and my brain had no fuel to think logically. Instead it just went into freak-out mode and I kind of fell apart.”

He raises an eyebrow, “So what’s the lesson here?”

I pop a morsel into my mouth, “Eat?”

He nods, “Yeah, Princess. Fucking eat.”

I smile, “Okay, okay. Got it. Fucking eat.”

“Good. Alright, then assuming that you’re in good enough shape to play, I wanted to go over with you what I planned on doing. The mechanics of it, anyway.”

I nod, “I’m all ears.”

“Before the pass-out, I was thinking about doing a full suspension, but I don’t like the idea of removing you completely off the ground right now.”

I shake my head, “I don’t think I’ll be passing out again. Like I said, I’m feeling fine, now.”

He shrugs, “Still. I was leaning toward this particular idea before you crashed.”  

I laugh, “Okay. So a semi-suspension. Am I going to be standing?”

He nods, “Yeah, with one leg raised in an asymmetrical pose. You’re going to love-hate it.”

I groan, “So, I definitely need to have eaten beforehand.”

He nods, “And you need to drink a lot water.”

“Okay.”

He continues, “Going back through that paperwork, do you want a specific and clear game plan laid out for you? Or do you want me to take the reins and lead you through the experience?”

I frown, “Take the reins. Why would I want anything different?”

“This is a different setting. A public setting, to be exact. So giving up your control can be more intimidating.”

I give this some thought, “Oh... Well, I’m still giving up my control to _you_ , right?”

His lips quirk, “Of course. Me and only me.”

I give him a shrug, “Then let’s do it like we do at home. It’s just us up there.”

He crinkles his eyes, “Yeah, it is.”

“Okay.” I finish my food in contemplative silence. “Am I still going to wear the torture device up there?”

He laughs, “Torture device?”

I give him a half-hearted glare, pointing at my pelvic region, “Yeah. You’re torturing me with it. So it’s a torture device.”

“Well, it would give us more play options if we took it off.”

I nod, “That’s true. It’s too bad I won’t have gotten to come with it on, though.”

He chuckles with a twinkle in his eye, “Well, Princess...”

My heart begins to race as he pulls the remote control out of his pocket. “How about I take care of a punishment and give you a particularly pleasurable ending?”

I feel my eyes widen while my cunt seeps with arousal as I consider the possibility he’s placing in front of me. “Okay, but what am I being punished for?”

“For neglecting yourself. For not eating when you’re supposed to, even when I reminded you to do so. For putting yourself in harm’s way.”

I nod, “Fair enough.”

He tilts my chin up to look at him. “I’ve been pretty lenient on you every time you’ve starved yourself, and I think that’s been a mistake on my part. Because it keeps happening. A punishment might help you remember, Princess.”

I nod obediently, “It might, Sir.”

He tilts his head over at the wall, which is now lined with floggers, crops, and paddles. “Go pick out your first punishment apparatus. It’s how we’ll begin our scene downstairs.” I nod, choosing a narrow-edged crop and presenting it to him. “Good girl. Now, I’m gonna gather the rest of what we need to take downstairs, but I want _you_ to carry the crop for me, okay.”

I nod, “Yes, Sir.”

He stops me as I start to stand up off the bed, “Ah ah ah, that’s not all.” I wait for him to continue, “You will carry it between your teeth the whole way down, understood?”

I nod, “Yes, Sir. May I brush my teeth?”

He smirks, “Of course, Princess.” He joins me as we quickly brush our teeth. I want a fresh mouth, not one that tastes like cheese… Once we’re both minty fresh, Bellamy collects the floggers, a cane, clover clamps, a blindfold,  and all our rope and places it into a bag to take downstairs. I slip back into my stilettos as I straighten up and place crop between my teeth.

He opens the door, “You ready, Princess?”

I nod, wordlessly confirming my readiness, since speech would be stifled by the crop in my mouth.

 

We make our way back down the stairs and I feel the cool air of the main level brush over my bare breasts, causing my nipples to harden into stiff nubs. A shiver runs through me as we descend the stairs to the basement and a sense of excitement overwhelms me. As we make our way through the social area, I’m met with an abundance of approving stares. A few people give me a lascivious once-over, which would normally make me uncomfortable, but tonight I’m feeling confident… I make eye contact with no one, keeping my eyes trained on the center of the play floor where a Tetruss frame is being set up. Exhilaration sets in and my heartbeat is thumping wildly in my ears. I feel Bellamy walk up behind me, placing a calming hand on my upper arm.

“Everything is set up, now. Walk to the middle of the floor.”

I give him a slight nod, speech still not feasible with the crop in between my teeth.

I move to the center of the floor, earning myself a “good girl” that propels an overwhelming sense of _rightness_ inside of me. When we make it to the middle, Bellamy quietly tells me to grasp my forearms behind my back and stand at attention while he sets out all of the toys on something that I’ll call a “rolling kink cart.” It has trays in which he sets several chained clover clamps as well as a blindfold. My heart falls into a crazy rhythm as he sets to work organizing things. He hangs two floggers from the hooks, and sets the cane in the longest tray. He takes the crop from between my teeth and sets it next to the cane and other crop. Finally, he puts all of the rope skeins in a bucket on the bottom of the kink cart then turns around to face me.

Caressing his hands up and down my arms, he gives me a gentle kiss on my forehead, “You’re doing so good already, Princess.”

I close my eyes for a moment, allowing myself to be engulfed in _him_ , “Thank you, Sir.”

He steps away to meet with Lucas, who has a pair of suspension cuffs in his hands. Bellamy walks back over to me, cuffs in hand. “For your punishment, I’m going to restrain your arms above your head.” I nod in consent, afraid my voice will betray my nervousness. “Give me your word, Princess.”

I smile gently, “Cherries, Sir.”

He captures my gaze with his, “Are you ready, Princess?”

My voice is gentle but resolute, “Yes, Sir.”

Just like that, my focus becomes completely on Bellamy. Everyone else around us is forgotten.  He caringly secures my wrists in the cuffs and walks me underneath the Tetruss frame. He attaches the cuffs to lengths of rope that are running through the ring in the top of the frame, which serves as a pulley of sorts. Once the ropes are secured to my cuffs, he pulls on the other end of the rope, raising my arms above my head. Once he’s satisfied with my position, he ties it off securely, whipping the ends around the vertical column of rope to finish it off.

Bellamy walks around to the kink cart and picks up a set of nipple clamps. “Princess, can you tell me why you’re being punished?”

I nod, biting my lip, “Because I disobeyed, Sir.”

“How did you disobey, Princess?” He asks as he rakes his fingernails along the sides of my breasts, coaxing my nipples into an erect state.

A shiver shoots through me as I try to focus on his words and not the pleasure rippling through my body, “I didn’t-" (shudder) "I didn't eat..."  He draws a nipple into his mouth with a gentle tug and laves his tongue over the erect peak. He releases the sensitive flesh, blowing gently over it with a satisfied smile. He gives me an expectant look, waiting for me to finish. "I didn't eat, even though you told me to, repeatedly, Sir."He applies the clamps to my nipples, tightening them until I flinch.

Bellamy nods, “That’s correct. Why do I want you to eat, Princess?”

I close my eyes, “Because it keeps me healthy and safe.”

He strokes my cheek with his finger, “That’s right. And that’s what I want for you. To be safe.”

My eyes open again and I smile, “Thank you, Sir.”

“Now, it’s time for your punishment, Princess.”

I nod, content and accepting, “Thank you, Sir.”

Bellamy pulls my thigh-highs down my legs and taps me so I'll step out of each one. He removes my garter belt and massages my ass, working down to the backs of my thighs, continuing his ministrations until all the flesh of my thighs is prepped. He kisses my forehead again, telling me quietly but penetratingly, “I love you so much, Princess.”

I whisper, “I love you, too.” I take a shuddering breath, “Please… punish me, Sir.”

He retrieves the narrow crop from the kink cart. “You will endure your penance until I feel you’ve learned your lesson, do you understand?”

I nod, “Yes, Sir.”

He smiles approvingly, “And when you’ve taken your punishment in full, you’ll be rewarded.”

I smile back, “Thank you, Sir.”

Bellamy plays the psychological angle, building incredible anticipation as he gently presses the end of the crop to my ass cheek for several seconds as I flex and relax my gluteal muscles in expectation. Suddenly he lands several stinging blows in succession, one after another. The first five strike in exactly the same place each time, but subsequent hits burn all over my ass and upper thighs. Tears prick the corners of my eyes as painful strikes land on my flesh. My fingers struggle as they attempt to find purchase on the rope that is suspending my wrists. He lands a particularly painful strike and I shriek in pain and surprise as my entire body flinches, jostling the nipple chains and tightening the clamps.

Bellamy steps away and sets the crop back on the kink cart and picks up the cane. It's thin, and its strikes can be extremely painful. The best part of caning, however, is the stunning array of marks that are left afterwards. I groan pitifully as he presses the cane to the back of my thighs, anticipating the pain that awaits. He strikes the backs of my thighs harshly as I cry out in protest.  I feel the tears falling down my face, trickling down my neck and pooling in the creases between my neck and shoulders. 

He comes up behind me, caressing my sides with his fingertips. “You’re doing so good, Princess. So good.”

I nod frantically, biting my lip and attempting to sniff my tears back, “Thank you, Sir.”

He kisses the back of my neck, “You’re almost done, Princess.”

We stay there for a few minutes. I lean into him, feeling a peace wash over me. He steps away and I tense up, awaiting the final stretch of my punishment. The cane lands more blows and I scream in agony. The “rest time” afforded my skin during those few minutes has made my skin exponentially more sensitive. Then, the strikes are accompanied by a jolt of pure pleasure as Bellamy turns the torture device on (though considering the new circumstances, it's no longer torturing me. Rather, it is delivering immense pleasure). I cry out in tormented bliss while the phallus inside of me writhes around and thrusts into my depths. My eyes close as I resign myself to the decadent sensations flooding me when the vibrator begins to buzz on my clit. I continue to endure the caning as my entire body seizes up with pleasure. Bellamy walks around to my side, raining blows onto my outer thighs, then the fronts of my thighs. I can feel the welts erupting on my unblemished flesh as I revel in the perverse satisfaction that, by the end of this, I’ll have such lovely evidence of all this torment.

My mind is at war with itself, trying to process simultaneous inputs of indescribable pleasure and excruciating pain. Bellamy stands behind me again, the cane hitting my right outer thigh. His other hand jerks my nipple chains, the pain of the tightening clamps shooting straight to my throbbing clit. I feel his honeyed voice penetrating my consciousness, “Come for me, Princess.”

I wail in rapture as my orgasm crashes through me, tears streaming down my face, my breaths heaving as I sob in ecstasy. Bellamy cradles my face in his large hands as waves of pleasure surge through me, intensified by his penetrating gaze. This moment is fucking beautiful... He is looking at me like I'm the most important thing in his universe, and I couldn't feel more loved. 

Soon, I’m begging for him to turn it off, the stimulation becoming too painful. His lips are attached to my neck as he turns the vibrator and dildo off. I’m so consumed by bliss, I don’t even realize he’s moved behind me.  He unbuckles the contraption and I feel a rush of air flowing over my now exposed, dripping pussy. I collapse against Bellamy with a lazy smile on my face. He chuckles, trailing more kisses up my neck to the corner of my lips as he walks around to my front, drawing me into searing kiss. My heart races as he tells me, _“You did so good, baby… You’re fucking incredible… You’re so goddamn beautiful, Princess.”_

My voice is thick with emotion and I break down into grateful sobs, “Thank you…”

_“I love you, Princess…”_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will pick up where this left off.
> 
> Yes that was a long contract, but safety first, everyone. 
> 
> Like I said in the beginning note, if there's anything you would like to see expanded, please know! 
> 
> I'm really curious to hear what you guys' thoughts are on this one, since there's a different kind of kink explored here. 
> 
> REVIEWS, PLEASE!!! (Pretty please?!)
> 
> And, if you haven't already left KUDOS, please do so (if you're enjoying this, of course).
> 
> May importantly, thank you guys so much for reading!


	41. i mean, sure...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The party continues... We'll have some fun, some smuff... delightful stuff.  
> (And propositions are made...)
> 
> Bellamy's POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy shit! YOU GUYS ARE SO AWESOME!!! It seriously makes me so happy that this story is getting so much love :-D 
> 
> Also, ALMOST AT 800 KUDOS!!! THAT'S CRAZY! (And wonderful! Can we make it to 1K?!) 
> 
> All of your reviews are very much cherished and adored. I'll be responding to them individually after I post this chapter. In the meantime, thank you all so much. 
> 
> ALSO - it was very helpful to get input on what you guys wanted to see next, which made me extra happy! The party will go on for one or two more chapters after this one, I think. 
> 
> Many of you wanted to see them incorporate others into their play (specifically Clarke being pleasured by another sub). I'll just say that it's not something that ALWAYS happens with BDSM play. So, I don't want to feed into a stereotype in that respect. It's a decision that each person makes individually. Some couples engage in "shared play" with other couples/partners on a regular basis. Some players never do that. Some people just aren't into it, just like some people aren't into pain play. I'm not saying it won't happen with our lovely couple, I just want to clarify that it's a "limit" for some. 
> 
> Also, someone referred to Lady Portia's subs (Lena & AnneMarie) as "the dolls" which was brilliant and perfect, and I've definitely taken that idea and run with it. So thank you for that! 
> 
> Again, THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH for the reviews last chapter. PLEASE, keep them coming! I really love hearing from all of you guys, and I try to do my best to reply to all of your comments! 
> 
> This chapter is entirely Bellamy's POV, picking up from the end of Chapter 40. 
> 
> **Trigger warnings**  
> Again, this is a kink party. Kinky shit happens. Read at your own discretion.

[Bellamy POV]

Fucking incredible. I don’t know if there will ever come a day when Clarke doesn’t astound me. I didn’t want her to feel pressured to play tonight, but she’s been nearly insistent on it. And _fuck_ , she’s taking to it like a natural. Play parties can be really intimidating when it comes to scenes, especially when you’re new. The audience can be distracting, and it’s incredibly easy to be overcome by self-consciousness. Connecting with your partner can be very difficult the first time you scene in public. To my amazement, this isn’t even an issue for Clarke. As far as she’s concerned, the audience is nonexistent. She zeroes in her focus on me alone, as if we’re the only people in the room. It’s almost like being at home, but the public element adds something… erotic. As she relinquishes her control and submits to me, I feel incredibly proud to be there with her.

I can see that most of the party has gathered around to watch our scene, and thankfully they’re quiet and respectful. If Clarke was not already attached to me, she would easily be a highly sought-after submissive. Hell, as it stands, she’ll be inundated with offers for shared play at the very least. I have a feeling that we’ll be getting some interesting proposals before the night is over, and I’m genuinely curious to see how Clarke will react to them…

Our scene is beautiful – the blissful expression etched on her face as she succumbs to the pleasure is breathtaking. Her ecstasy radiates off of her. It feels like if I could just get close enough, it will touch me, too. She’s in the midst of a powerful, highly _emotional_ orgasm, and the only thing I want to do is hold her close.  As her orgasm wanes, I speak soft words of encouragement as she comes down off her high and returns to reality.  

Her hair is sticking to the sweat on her forehead, so I wipe it off of her face, tucking the loose strands behind her ears. I give her a kiss on the forehead as I tell her, “You’re all done, Princess.”

She nods with a lazy smile, “Thank you, Sir.”

I untie the rope and lower her arms to detach the cuffs from the rope. She leans on me while I release her. As I remove the cuffs from her wrists, I inspect them for damage, testing for motor or sensory deficits in her hands and fingers. I remove her nipple clamps next, which causes her entire body to shudder. Judging by the smile on her face, the sensation was pleasurable. _That’s my girl…_

Clarke is pretty limp, not exactly able to walk on her own right now, so I sweep her up in my arms as I carry her to a side room. Mandy offers to gather our things and bring them to the room so I can take care of Clarke.

I set Clarke on the bed as Mandy enters the room, rolling the cart in. I move to gather our things and clear off the cart before Mandy stops me, “Lucas said the cart is yours for the night. There are plenty of others.”

After I set the arnica cream and skin salve on the bed, I waste no time joining Clarke on the bed. I give Mandy a grateful nod as I pull Clarke into my arms.

Mandy gives us a sweet smile and heads back toward the door. Then she pauses and turns around to face us. “I just wanted to say, that was… beautiful out there.”

I nod, “Thanks, Mandy. We’ll be out in a little while.”

She turns toward the door again and quietly departs, leaving Clarke and I in our tranquility. I take time to rub the arnica cream into her marred skin, then gently massage the skin salve on top of it. Clarke rakes her fingers along my forearm, telling me without words that she’s awake and alert, however blissed out she may be. I pull her hair out of the hair holder, raking my fingers into the loose golden strands. I’m careful to mind the rope-braided strands, though. They look… poetic right now.

“You did so well out there, Clarke.”

She snuggles into me, “I liked it. A lot.”

“I could see that.”

We sit in a comfortable silence for a little longer before Clarke pulls back with a confused expression on her face, “Wait, weren’t you going to tie me in a suspension rig?”

I chuckle, “That was the plan, but this turned out to be a little more intense than I originally thought, so I opted to end the scene there.”

Her lips curl into a pout, “I wanted to do a suspension, though.”

I squeeze her closer to me with a chuckle, “If you still want to, we can go back out there in a little bit. But you need to recover, first.”

She nods with a satisfied grin, “Okay, then.” After a few more minutes, I feel her lips against my skin. She lays open-mouthed kisses on my chest as she travels in a slow line toward my neck. She’s sucking a bruise into my neck when I reposition her so she straddles me. A grateful grunt escapes her as she sucks harder. Once she’s satisfied with the mark, she sits up and looks it over again. Her proud grin is fucking adorable and she dips her head down to kiss what I’m sure is a massive hickey. She strokes it with her thumb, gazing lovingly at her handiwork. “There. Now everyone can see that you’re mine.”

I laugh, “As if there was any question?”

She shrugs, “Well, just in case…”

Cupping her cheeks, I pull her face to mine, our noses bumping a few times as I pepper gentle kisses onto her lips. Tenderness soon gives way to greedy touches as Clarke tangles her fingers in the hair on the back of my head, pulling me into a sloppy kiss. With her free hand, she starts trying to unfasten my belt buckle. Her frustrated huffs are endearing, and her noiseless little victory dance when she finally unfastens the belt is downright charming, but that’s the last thought I can spare for delicate thoughts as she reaches into my pants and wraps her hand around already hard cock, stroking me up and down.

She bites on my collar bone, “Bellamy… I need you… _inside_ me.”

She’s not wearing _anything_ , so my fingers travel unimpeded to her cunt, which is still dripping wet from earlier. “ _Fuck,_ Clarke…” She nods as she practically _tears_ my shirt over my head. She rises off of me briefly so she can tug my pants down my hips. I don’t even have them all the way down my legs before she’s back on me, hand wrapped around my shaft, positioning me at her entrance. My hands settle on her hips as she lowers herself down and I’m overwhelmed all over again by the realization that this woman is my _home_.

When I’m finally sheathed within her, she stops everything for a moment and places her hands on the sides of my neck, causing a shiver to shoot through me as she strokes my skin with her thumb. It was as if we were desperate, frantic for me to be inside of her, and now that I’m here, we can slow down because everything is right in the world. Her smile is simple and content. “I’m glad that you’re… you. Because you’re perfect for me.” Her tone is simple and resolute. Like she’s informing me that the sky is blue.

I can feel the corners of my mouth tug up as I commit this moment to memory. She’s bared to me, body and soul, and she’s the most beautiful fucking thing I’ve ever seen. And for some reason, she’s mine. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”

She tilts her head to the side and smiles at me like she’s in on some sort of secret. “Don’t you get it? You didn’t have to do anything. You just… _are._ You’re you. And I’m me…” She kisses my forehead with overwhelming tenderness and I wrap my arms around her back, pulling her close to me. I can hear the smile in her voice, “I mean, we’re kind of idiots sometimes, and we took a really long time to get here, but...” She lowers her voice to a whisper against my skin, “We were _always_ going to happen, Bellamy.”

My own voice threatens to break, “Yeah… We were.”

She winds her hands back into my hair and presses her lips to mine. Her lips ignite something fierce within, burning through the oxygen around us until we’re breathless.

Clarke starts up again, rolling her hips as she rises and falls over me. Our rough moans hang in the air as we move against each other. Given that I’ve been hard practically since we arrived, and she’s riding my cock like she’s in a rodeo, I’m near the edge embarrassingly quickly. After a few more minutes, I still her hips so we can change positions. She quickly wraps her legs around my back and locks her ankles together before I flip us over so that she’s underneath me.

She laughs in delight, “Fuck, we’re still _connected_ , baby…”

I chuckle, “Yes, we are.”

She smiles up at me, “We’re good at that.”

“We’re good at a lot of things. You’ll have to be more specific.”

Her grin is contagious, “We’re good at, like, flipping over while keeping your cock inside of me.”

“Ah, yes. An important skill.” Her eyes have a magical glint to them as I brush the hair back out of her face, “ _Fuck_ , you’re beautiful.”

She squeezes her legs around me, “Show me.” She tightens her inner walls around my cock and grins in triumph when I can’t repress the pleasured gasp that escapes me. I pull out, then rock back into her, setting a languid rhythm, making sure to hit every pleasure zone she has with each movement. I speed up my thrusts, giving her friction that, within minutes, has her panting, begging me to let her come. I unwrap one of her legs from around my waist and hook my arm under her knee, pushing her thigh into her chest to open her up wide.

Just before I attach my mouth to her neck, I tell her, _“Come for me._ ” As she falls apart, she arches her back into me with a coarse groan, her clenching inner walls spurring my own release as her cunt milks my cock for everything I have. I collapse on top of her for a brief moment before rolling off to the side. As we lie on the bed, chests heaving while we catch our breath, she looks over at me with a satisfied grin and laughs lightly.

I frown, “What are you laughing at?”

She smiles bigger, “Nothing in particular. You just make me really fucking happy.”

I smile as I pull her onto my chest, “You’re incredible, Clarke.” Our fingers lazily explore each other’s skin while we rest.

“Clarke, we should talk about the rest of tonight.”

She nods, “Okay. What about it?”

“I’m not really sure how to phrase this, and I’m only bringing it up because I don’t want you to get blind-sided…” She raises an eyebrow, waiting for me to continue. “After our scene out there, I can guarantee we’re going to get some… unconventional offers for, um, _company_.”  

She barks out a laugh, “Bellamy, we’re at a kink party. You can use words like “three-way fuck” without it sounding out of place.”

I shake my head, wondering how it is that she’s the more relaxed one in this situation. “Way to put it delicately…” After a few moments of laughter, I continue, “The interest probably won’t be in a three-way.”

Her body tenses up slightly, “Well, I’m not doing anything without you.”

I squeeze her, “Well, that’s good to know. But what I meant was that we’ll probably be propositioned for a… larger gathering.”

Her eyes widen, “Like a four-way?”

I pick a spot on the ceiling and stare at it intently, mumbling under my breath, “Or more.”

Her breath hitches and I feel her heartrate speed up against my chest. It’s pretty obvious she’s turned on by the idea, but she’s quiet for a solid minute before she asks, “Do you have, like, experience with that?”

I nod slowly, “You could say that.”

She gives me a matter-of-fact “hmm” and thinks for a little longer. “Would you want to do it, you know, again?”

I shrug, “I mean, yeah, I’d be down. But really, it’s not something that I would be disappointed to decline.”

She nods again, raking her fingers along my bare chest. Her heart is still racing, and she can probably feel the thundering beat in my own chest. “You know our thing about this not being an open relationship?”

I nod, “Mmm hmm.”

“I feel like it would be… okay to do something like this if we’re doing it _together_ , you know?” I silently agree with a nod. She rests her chin on my chest and looks me in the eye. “It would be more of a... shared activity... Does that make any sense?”

I nod, “Yeah, it makes sense.”

“Don’t get me wrong, Bell. You’re all I will ever need.”

I brush a stray hair out of her face, “Same here, Clarke…”

She nods with a little smile, “This would be more like, just a fun activity.” She drums her fingers along my ribcage as we contemplate what she’s suggesting. “In past relationships, when someone brought this up, I immediately shut it down, because I was worried that there was a chance one of us could get emotionally attached to whatever third party was brought in. Like, what if he or she fell for that person? Or what if I did?”  

“Is that something that worries you?”

She shakes her head, “With you? Not at all. Like I said, you’re all I’ll ever need. And I feel like my place in your life is secure, and I’m not afraid you’ll want someone else more than you want me.”

“Good. Because that’s not going to happen. You’re it for me, Clarke. You know that.”

She smiles, “I do. And you’re it for me, too.”

She lifts her head up and meets my lips with hers in a delicate kiss. She smiles against my lips, “So…”

I ask, “Is it something you’re interested in?”

“YES!” She clears her throat sheepishly, “I mean, sure…”

I chuckle, “Wow, you don’t sound eager _at all_.”

She buries her head in my chest as her face blushes a fierce shade of red. She looks back up at me, “Okay, I’m a _little bit_ extremely excited about this.”

I smile, “So if you were to have your pick of everyone, which I can just about guarantee you do, who would you invite in?”

She thinks for a second, “Umm… Definitely Talia, because she would make me feel comfortable.”

I nod, “Agreed. She’s good with women and you seem relaxed when she’s around. There could be a hiccup with Lucas. I doubt he’ll let her join a scene without him. Actually, I know for a fact he won’t.”

She shrugs, “Well, as long as he can keep his hands off of me, I don’t have a problem with that.”

“That won’t be an issue. Lucas respects boundaries.” I tilt her head up to look at me. “If we’re going to do this, we do need to lay down some ground rules.”

She nods, “Yes. Yes, that’s a good idea. For starters, I don’t want any other men touching me.”

A sigh of undeniable relief escapes me, “Good. Because I don’t want another man’s hands on you.”

She chuckles, “I’m comfortable with a woman. I have _experience_ being the “giver” with women, but I never really wanted anyone going down on me… until you came along.”

I feel a possessive sense of pride knowing that _I’m_ the one she trusted to help her embrace that avenue of pleasure. “How would you feel about Talia doing it?”

A shy smile tugs at her lips, “I think I’d be okay with that.”

I whisper in her ear, “I’ve witnessed her with other women – she’s very, very talented with her tongue.”

She shivers and raises an eyebrow, “Better than you?”

I huff a laugh, “Apples and oranges, babe. It’s different when someone of the same gender gives you oral.”

She has a wicked grin, “Bellamy Blake, have you been sucked off by another man?”

I shrug casually, “Is that a problem?”

She shakes her head, her shit-eating grin still plastered on her face, “ _God_ , no! I never thought about it before now, but holy _shit_ , that’s hot.”

I’m pretty sure my eyebrows are raised into my hairline, “Wow. You’re just a barrel of surprises tonight, Clarke.”

I see a mischievous glint in her eye, “Would you let Lucas suck your cock?”

“Been there, done that. And yeah, he’s pretty fucking good at sucking cock… So yeah, I wouldn’t be opposed.”

She nods perceptively, “Do you think _he_ would be opposed?”

I laugh, “He’s never had a problem with it before.”

Clarke is groaning at this point, “Holy shit. That is the hottest fucking visual. Would you go down on him?”

I laugh, “Talia won’t allow that. She’s pretty possessive when it comes to Lucas’s dick.”

She laughs out loud, “Good for her.” She squints her eyes, “Wait, she won’t let anyone give him oral, but she’s cool with him blowing someone else?”

I shrug, “Yeah. She’s peculiar like that.” I continue, “I’ll be honest, it’ll be hot as fuck watching you with another woman, but I have no desire to participate with a woman other than you.”

She narrows her eyes with a self-assured grin and her facial expression is unquestionably _possessive._ Her jealousy sends an unexpected surge of arousal through me, and judging by the smirk on her face, I’m pretty sure she knows that I’m turned on by her territorial display… That message is loud and clear.

After a few moments Clarke gets this look on her face, like an idea bulb just switched on in her head. “What if we had another girl join in, along with Talila? I could eat her out while Talia’s eating me out.”

I groan, “Clarke, you’re killing me here. I’m going to bust a nut if you keep saying shit like that.”

She giggles, “Well, it’d be hot for me, too.”

I nod my head with a shameful amount of enthusiasm, “Done. We’ll get a third woman. Any thoughts on who?”

She shrugs, “How about we see if Mandy will join.”

“Good pick.”

She grins up at me, “So we’re gonna do this?”

I look at her meaningfully, tracing the gentle contours of her cheekbones, “If you want. You can change your mind at any time.”

“Okay. Well, I haven’t changed it yet.” She grins, “Oooh, what about the ropes – can we do those now?”

“Let’s walk the floor a bit, first. Regain your bearings. Okay?”

She nods, “Sounds good.”

I point over at my bag, “I brought something down as a cover-up if you don’t want to walk around in the nude.”

She smiles, “Yeah, I think I’d feel a little awkward just… naked. I don’t have anything adorning me, you know?”

My head tilts, “I’m sure I can come up with something if you’re looking for ornamentation.”

She nods, “Well, what did you bring as a cover-up?”

“It’s just a short satin robe. Lucas keeps them in each room. Since we’re staying in Purple room, the robe is purple.”

“That sounds pretty. What if I was wearing something kinky _underneath_ the robe? Like it’d be our little secret.”

I smirk, “What did you have in mind?”

She shrugs, “We could put the nipple clamps back on.”

I kiss her temple, “Of course you’d want that.”

She smacks my chest light-heartedly, “What can I say? You created a monster.”

“Yeah, the best kind of monster.”

She kisses my shoulder as she gets up out of bed, “Can we go back out now?”

I nod as I gather my own clothes, “Yeah, let’s go. Were you serious about the nipple clamps?”

She nods, “Yeah. Are they in here?”

After my I pull my pants back on, I retrieve the nipple chains, as well as another set of chains, “I’ve got something a little… extra if you want to try it.”

She gives me a curious glance, “What is it?”

“I’ve got a chain set that’s kind of like a thong that connects to nipple clamps.”

She waggles her eyebrows, “Ooh, that sounds pretty.”

“You can wear the robe over it if you want.”

She nods, “Okay. I’ll give it a try.”

I pull out the chains and fasten the pelvic portion on her before I attach her nipple clamps, laving my tongue over the darkened (and highly sensitized) flesh, then sucking hard before pulling off of it. Finally, I blow over the wetted nipple, marveling as it pebbles up into a beautifully erect peak. I place the jaws of the clamp over the hardened nipple, watching her blissful face flinch as I tighten the clamp up. I repeat the process on the other nipple before attaching it to the hip chains. She steps back and sways her hips seductively, which to be honest, was sexy as fuck. Unfortunately, it’s pretty evident that it was painful as hell.

She flinches with a pained smile, “Fuck, I should’ve thought that one through!” We share a light-hearted laugh as she recomposes herself. I hold up the satin robe and she slips her arms in slowly, careful not to jostle her chains any further. She starts to tie the robe, but decides against it. “If I tie it, it’ll shake my chains. Covering them up hurts.”

I smirk, stepping closer to her as I whisper in her ear, “Sure, I bet it has nothing to do with your mile-wide exhibitionist streak.”

She has a sheepish smile when she licks her lips and presses them together. She looks up at the ceiling, “Maybe it does."  She looks back at me, "Is that a problem?”

I shake my head as I pull my shirt back over my head, “You’re fucking hot. If you wanna show that off here, I’m all for it.”

She gives a contemplative nod, “Good.”

Clearing my throat, I add, “They can look. But no one had better touch.”

She frowns, “Would that happen? Touching?”

I shake my head again, “It’s not likely here. People at this party are respectful, and nobody is going to touch you without your consent.”

She nods, “Which I won’t be giving.” She looks herself over in one of the mirrored walls, “Do you think I should put the thigh-highs back on?”

I shrug, “You look hot as hell either way. Just wear the heels.”

Her eyes sparkle with mischief, “Of course, Sir.” She elects to skip the thigh-highs and slips her heels on.

My mouth goes dry as she turns in a slow circle, giving me a little show. “Yeah, hot as fuck, Princess.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

After I slip my own shoes on, I open the door to roll the cart out of the room, leaving it to sit outside the door until we need it again. I go back into the room to find Clarke waiting eagerly, so I nod for her to come out. My hand takes its place on her lower back as we step out of the room and make our way back into the main room.

 

* * *

 

 

On the floor, we see Lady Portia doing a scene with her dolls. Clarke and I stop and watch for a little while as they navigate a shared predicament. The girls are inside of a large wooden frame, tied to opposite posts, facing each other. AnneMarie, the shorter girl) is standing in ultra high heels, while Lena is standing on extreme tiptoes. There is a crotch rope that is “splitting” Lena’s pussy (it’s a single length of rope along the cunt, making it extremely painful to fight against when it’s pulled taut. I’m told it feels like it’s splitting the wearer in half, thus the “splitting” name designation), while AnneMarie’s breasts are tied individually in tight, compressing ties, which causes them to become swollen and purple. It’s something I personally won’t do. It’s just not a pleasing aesthetic for me. Now, Lena’s crotch rope is connected to AnneMarie’s breast rope via a pulley, so once Lena’s legs begin to tire, coming off tiptoes will hurt not only herself, since the crotch rope will be excruciating, but they’ll be pulling on AnneMarie’s severely pained breasts. I'm guessing the predicament has only just begun, since Lena is holding strong.

The psychological aspect of their relationship is interesting. Everything between the dolls is shared. In this predicament, the actions of one can place the other under increased stress. This goes beyond the sub’s self-preservation instincts, since her actions directly affect the pain or stress experienced by the other sub. It can build up or test their emotional tie. I haven’t seen much of AnneMarie (the newer sub), since she was relatively new to their relationship last time I saw Lady Portia, which was months ago. Despite how annoyed Lena, the collared slave, appeared earlier when they were having to carry around the hors d’oeuvres trays, she seems to be genuinely concerned by the fact that AnneMarie is experiencing serious stress.

As Lena’s legs become shaky, I can see that she’s having difficulty staying on tip toes, and sure enough, as her strength begins to falter, they are both shrieking in pain. After a few minutes of shared torture, Lady Portia walks over to AnneMarie, caressing her face and whispering something in her ear. AnneMarie shakes her head and cries out as Lady Portia bends down and removes AnneMarie’s high heels, forcing _her_ to stand on tiptoes, with the same repercussions as Lena for coming down. After a few minutes of them both being on tiptoes, screaming out in obvious agony, but neither calling safe words, Lady Portia goes over to Lena.  She kisses Lena on the forehead, whispering something to her, and Lena nods as she mouths a 'thank you.'  Lady Portia bends down and slips some high heels onto Lena's feet, allowing her to have a small break, and rely completely on AnneMarie to avoid pain. AnneMarie takes her part seriously, and is doing her very best to stay on her tiptoes.

Clarke nudges me gently with her elbow, nodding toward the social area, so I take the hint and we head that direction.

Clarke is sporting a thoughtful look, “That was downright _fascinating._ ”

“Yeah, I’d heard through the grapevine that they were something to behold. Their dynamic is something Portia was in search of for years.”

“Like, they seemed to be so concerned with each other’s pain. Did you see how upset Lena was? I feel like it had very little to do with the physical pain she was in.”

I nod, “I agree. She was really worried about AnneMarie.”

Clarke nods again, “Yeah, and once it was AnneMarie’s turn to carry the burden, she was so freaked out. At first I thought it was because she didn’t want to do the work, but I could see it in her face – she didn’t want Lena to be hurting.  It was like she was as concerned about failing Lena as she was about failing Lady Portia.”

“Yeah, you’re right.”

“Like I said, it's a fascinating dynamic.” Clarke spots Talia by the bar. “If it’s alright with you, I’m gonna go catch up with Talia.”

I nod, “That’s fine.” I spot Lucas not far from Talia. “I’ll chat with Luc for a bit.”

Clarke smiles, “I don’t know if I’ll ask Talia about anything yet. I just want to see how she’s been, now that I’ve calmed down a bit. Earlier I was just too wired to have an actual conversation.”

“I’m sure she understood.”

Clarke kisses me on the cheek, “Have fun. I’ll see you in a bit.” She makes her way over to Talia. Lucas sees me standing here and walks over, nodding a hello to Clarke as they pass each other.

When he gets to me, claps his hand on my shoulder, “B... That was intense.”

I nod with a smile, “Yeah, I know.”

“It’s not like the specific actions of the scene were severe or anything, but-“

“Yeah, no that’s the thing. The energy between us is so much more powerful than I’ve ever experienced before. She puts everything into it. I’ve never been with someone like her... So yeah, even though it’s not a terribly violent scene, the vibe between us is just as consuming.”

Lucas smiles with understanding, “That’s how it is for me with Talia.”

I nod, “Yeah, I get it. I mean, I've never felt like my other subs were disposable or anything like that. But until Clarke, I didn’t understand what it was like to have something I would do anything to keep.”

“I hear you. And I’m glad you found it.” He tilts his head toward Clarke, who is engaged in conversation with Talia. “I’m happy you found _her_.”

“Me too.”

“I know I haven’t seen you much lately, but I can tell she’s been good for you.”

I can feel the lopsided smile on my face, “Yeah, she has... I want to make it clear, she’s not the reason I haven’t been around.”

Lucas frowns, “I didn’t think she was, man. I figured things were busy. It wasn’t the same as when you disappeared on us a few years back.”

“Yeah, the circumstances are completely different.  The time I disappeared was because of that meltdown I had with Dom-space."

"Yeah, that was rough.  It's too bad you haven't been able to experience it in a positive way."

I smile, "Well, with Clarke, I have.  It's completely different with her.  The experience wasn't damaging." 

He nods, "Good."

"We did have a Red call a few weeks ago."  This is not something I would tell just _anyone_ , but Lucas has been my mentor since I started this. 

"Shit, man.  What happened?"

I sigh, "Predicament punishment gone too far.  But she got us through it.  Like, I was shutting down big time, and she snapped me out of it.  I don't think she realizes just how huge it was for me." 

He nods, "She shares a deep connection with you.  It's damn obvious, man."  He has a knowing but comforting smile on his face.  "So yeah, if you guys needed these past months to deepen your bond before coming out to play, then it's totally understandable." 

I nod, "Yeah.  I mean, the first few months, we were completely caught up in each other. Like, every waking moment was consumed by… _her_. In the best way. Then this fall we moved in together, and most of our life revolved around finding the perfect place, then moving into it… God, moving in almost became a disaster.”

Lucas quirks an eyebrow, “How so?”

“We were at each other’s throats about everything, just stupid little things, really. But you know how it is when the little things all add up.”

He nods, “The collective weight can take its toll.”

“Exactly. So we came up with some creative solutions to our decision-making _difficulties_.”

He laughs, “Is that so? Please, do explain.”

I smirk, “I put her into predicament bondage.”

His mouth drops open, “Fucking brilliant, B.”

I laugh, “Yeah, just for little decisions. We didn’t use it to decide anything with any ‘weight’ to it. We just used it to make the tedious decisions a little more interesting.”

“I can imagine it was a relief to get those things out of the way, as well.”

I nod, “Yeah, a huge relief. Oh, and you'd be proud - we totally kinked-out our bedroom.”

He steps back to look at me, “Like _kinky_ kinked-out? Or sneaky kinked-out.”

“Sneaky kinked-out. Like the Purple room.”

He fist-bumps me, “Nice.”

“Clarke calls your bed a ‘transformer’ bed. Actually, she called _my_ bed a transformer bed, and I explained tonight that I got the idea from the bed upstairs.”

He barks out a laugh, “Transformers? Like the toys?”

I nod with a smirk, “Like the toys.”

He smiles, “Awesome.”

“Yeah, she is.”

“So are you guys thinking of playing any more tonight?”

I nod, “Yeah, she is still dead-set on doing a suspension. I thought she’d be wiped after the punishment scene we did earlier, but she seems to have gotten a second wind.”

“Portia will be finishing up with the dolls soon-ish, so if you guys want to go on after them, all the frames will be free.”

I nod, “I think that’ll work.” Both Lucas and I glance over at Clarke and Talia, “Clarke adores Talia.”

Lucas smiles, “Talia thinks Clarke is just ‘the best thing ever.’ Her words, not mine. But seriously, from day one, she wanted to take Clarke under her wing like a baby bird or something.”

I laugh, “That sounds like Talia.”

Lucas smirks, “Just a heads-up. I think Talia is going to broach the idea of some shared play with the four of us.”

I nod with a lighthearted smile, “I figured. And I know your rule. No Talia without Lucas.”

He laughs, “Ha! You think that’s _my_ rule?”

I raise an eyebrow, “It isn’t?”

He shakes his head, “No, _she’s_ the one who insists I be there with her. I trust her to do things without me, but she wants me there, and I’m not going to deny her… Or complain, fuck…” He smirks, “I’d be an idiot not to want to be there.”

I glance over at the girls, whose innocent touches have progressed into not-so-innocent territory. Clarke is seductively walking her fingers up Talia’s arm, stopping to cup her elbow. Talia is teasingly biting her own lip, which I’m realizing is a pretty big turn-on for Clarke, because her grip on Talia’s elbow just flinched.

“Well, full disclosure, judging by body language, I’m fairly certain Clarke just propositioned Talia.”

Lucas looks over at me, “Is that something you’re up for?”

I shrug, “If she is, yeah.”

“Then how about we plan to close out the night together? Once the party’s over, we’ll take it upstairs.”

I nod, “I’ll check with Clarke. But yeah, I think that’d be an excellent way to end the night.”

“Awesome.” Lucas glances over at the main area, “It looks like Portia is finishing up on the main floor. I’m going to go see if there’s anything she or the spotters need before we get it set up for you and Clarke.”

“Thanks, Luc.”

I head back over to Clarke, who greets me with a knowing grin, “Hello, Sir… I may have secured two of our playmates for tonight.”

I grin back at her, glancing between her and Talia “Secured? Sounds hot when you say it that way.”

She shrugs, “Well…” She shares a look with Talia, who nods and smiles.

“Glad to hear it. The floor is about to be free. Do you still want to do a suspension?”

She nods enthusiastically, “Definitely, yes!”

“Good. I’m gonna go get our cart. Meet me at the back corner of the main floor?”

She nods, “Sure. I’ll meet you there.”

I give Talia a smile and a nod, then lay a kiss to Clarke’s forehead before heading to the main area to get set up.

I pinch myself a few times to make sure I'm not actually dreaming.  I couldn’t have imagined the night being this… intense. And I couldn’t be happier about it…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up we'll see some suspension bondage... more fun to come!
> 
> Again, reviews give me life!!! Every time I get an email notifying me of a review, it's like a boot-kick of motivation in my inbox! So, keep them coming :) 
> 
> And, if you haven't already left KUDOS, please do! (If you're enjoying this). 
> 
> Thank you all so much!
> 
> Come see me on [tumblr](http://missemarissa.tumblr.com) (@missEmarissa)


	42. orgasmic and well-spoken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke is suspended. Then... sex.  
> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys are freaking awesome! I'm completely floored by the response I've gotten from everyone! I truly appreciate all of your comments - they really make my day when I get notifications of reviews in my inbox :-) 
> 
> All of your reviews and comments have, as usual, fueled the creative fire under my ass. This was a beast of a chapter (I think over 11k words), and the scene isn't even remotely close to being finished. Be forewarned: Toward the end, this chapter gets a lot raunchier than my other ones, sex-wise. Because it's, well, an orgy. Specifically, an orgy between a bunch of people who are very *ahem* sexually open-minded. It's an interesting project to tackle as a writer. 
> 
> Also, some of you have checked out my new little side project: [The Only Thing That Makes Moving Worse is Bellamy Blake](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4532115/chapters/10313604/) . It's a light-hearted (but still smutty) fic that gives my writing brain a break from the intensity of this story. If you haven't read it yet, I would love for you to take a look! It's had great reception so far. And if it's smut you seek, you'll find it ;)
> 
> **Trigger Warnings**  
> KINK PARTY. EXPECT KINK.

[Clarke POV]

I don’t quite know what’s taken me over. I didn’t anticipate feeling this… brazen. I don’t feel like I have anything to prove to anyone, but I’m reveling in each slack-jawed stare I receive as I walk away from Bellamy to visit with Talia.

She greets me warmly with a gentle hug, mindful of my nipple chains. “My god, Clarke! Who are you and what have you done with that shy girl from the restaurant?”

I shrug with a laugh, “I don’t know, you should ask Bellamy.” I look over at him, “He’s opened my mind and heart up in ways I never dreamed possible.”

“That’s so good! Seriously, I’m so fucking happy for you two.”

I feel the smile in my soul make its way to my face, “I’m happy, too.”

She sides up to me carefully, “I’m serious, Clarke. I have never seen him connect with someone in such a profound way before. It’s like you were a part of him or something.”

I nod, “I feel like our souls… _fuse_ when we’re up there. Our energies meld together until we’re radiating… _Bliss_.”

“You guys were really beautiful.” She wipes tears from her eyes,

“Talia, Is everything okay?”

She nods, glancing around us as if to make sure nobody is listening. “Okay, I’m going to tell you something, but you have to promise not to tell anyone else. Also, please maintain a poker face. Can you do that?”

I nod, concerned, “Of course. What is going on?”

She whispers in my ear, “There’s a bun in my oven!”

As requested, I school my features so as not to give away my surprise. While I’m happy for her, I groan a little bit on the inside… Here’s the thing. I’m around pregnant people all day. They don’t bother me in the least bit. In fact, it makes me happy to be around people who are literally bursting with life. But it’s one thing to attend to the needs of pregnant patients. It’s quite another to be one of the only women you know in your friend groups who _isn’t_ pregnant. It’s just a stark reminder of the fact that Bellamy and I really need to get our shit together already. I put a pin in those thoughts and return to the matter at hand.

I give Talia a hug, “Congratulations, Talia.”

She smiles, “We’re excited about it. But we aren’t telling anyone yet.”

“Well, I feel honored that you told me.” I tell her with a thoughtful smile.

She shrugs with a grin, “Well, I figured you could probably tell, anyway.”

My face contorts into a confused frown, “Why do you think that?”

“Well, you’re an OB! Can’t you just like, sniff out pregnant people?”

I bark a laugh that jostles my nipple chains, and I can see my own pained expression in the mirror behind the bar, “Being an OB doesn’t give me a sixth sense for pregnant women.”

She rolls her eyes with a chuckle, “Well, I wasn’t sure! You seem like you might be one of those intuitive types.”

I shrug, “I try to rely on sonograms before declaring anyone pregnant. Your secret is safe with me.”

She smiles, “I know. That’s why I really knew I could tell you. And I really wanted to tell someone.”

I smile, “I can understand that. Is this why Lucas told us you couldn’t spot our scene tonight?”

She nods, “Yeah, I’ve just been getting bouts of sleepiness lately, and I didn’t want to commit to spot a scene only to be hit with a tired spell, you know?”

I nod in agreement, “Better safe than sorry. Has everything else been well?”

“Well, morning sickness was kicking my ass for a while, coming at all hours of the day. But as of last week, it’s subsided. Other than that, everything’s been great.”

“Good.”

She snorts, “But oh my _god_ , I’ve been horny as hell. Like, every waking moment, I wanna fuck. I feel like a hormonal teenage boy or something! It’s almost embarrassing – everything reminds me of sex, and how much I want to have it. I was at Bed Bath & Beyond yesterday and saw these really soft plushy towels, and my mind instantly thinks, _‘these would feel really comfy after a round of rough shower sex…’_ Then I was frantically searching for Luc because he’s the best at satisfying those _needs_ , you know?” She waggles her eyebrows suggestively then continues, “Anyway, it gets worse – It took me five whole minutes to remember that Luc hadn’t even _come_ to the store with me, so I was horny as fuck, in the middle of fucking Bed Bath  & Beyond, and unable to do anything about it. I called Luc in a like, sexual _panic_ , and bless him, he talked me off in the car so I could make it home without losing my mind.”

I’m making a concerted effort not to double-over in laughter (because, ouch, nipple chains) as Talia’s animated method of storytelling has me laughing so hard my sides hurt. “Holy shit, Talia. This is the best thing I’ve heard all night! I mean, not that sexual frustration is funny, but-“

She laughs, “NO, really, it’s okay. It’s funny when I’m not in the middle of a meltdown.”

I chuckle, “So I take it your needs have been met, then?”

She grins, “Oh, you could say that. But god, I’ve been feeling… inventive.”

I raise an eyebrow, “Do tell…”

She shrugs, “I’ve been using sooooo many toys when we’re fucking lately. Like, I can’t get enough of him playing with my ass. I’ve always liked anal okay, but lately, I’ve been craving it. It’s ridiculous.”

Curious, I ask, “So what do you guys, like, do?”

She groans with a huge smile, “Well, he usually starts out with some rimming to get me in the mood, eventually lubing me up and putting a plug in. It helps relax me, and kind of primes me for what’s to come, you know?”

I shrug, “No, actually. Bellamy and I haven’t done anal yet. Like, we do anal play a lot, with toys, but he hasn’t actually gone all the way in that regard.”

“Do you want him to?”

I laugh, “Fuck, yes. We just _haven’t_ yet.”

Talia nods, “Well, once you guys get around to it, he’ll prep you for it good.”

I moan in anticipation, “Oh god, don’t get me thinking about it…”

Talia laughs, “Oh my god, you’re fucking adorable! Look at you blushing, girl!”

I feel my face heat up, though I’m not sure if it’s from embarrassment or unbridled lust. “Yeah, yeah...”

Talia is stepping closer and closer, and I’m pretty sure I can feel the arousal radiating off of her. “So, you and B – are you done for the night?”

I shake my head, “No, not even a little bit. Bellamy – sorry, ‘B’ – is gonna tie me in a suspension rig. Well, maybe a semi-suspension.”

She smiles, “That’ll be really neat!”

I give her a grin, “Yeah, I’m looking forward to it.” I pause a moment, trying to think of how to approach the subject of the post-suspension activities. I touch her arm with my fingers, gauging her reaction to a more intimate physical touch. “Also…”

Talia raises an eyebrow as I walk up my fingers up her arm. Her pupils widen as I get closer to her elbow. “What would you say to maybe, joining me and B tonight for some… fun?”

She bites her lip seductively, sending a jolt of arousal straight through me. She nods suggestively and my heart soars.

I smile, “B says that Lucas has a rule about having to be there if you are.”

She nods, “Yes. I mean, yeah, but it’s actually my rule. He just happens to agree with me.”

I nod, “Well, I’m fine with him being there.”

“Good. And I assume B will join us, too?”

I nod as I glance over at Bellamy and Lucas, “Yeah. And we’re going to see if Mandy will partake, as well.”

She smiles teasingly, “I think we’ll be down for it.”

Bellamy walks over to me, looking unfairly delicious. I give him a grin as I tell him that Talia is down to play with us. He smiles and tells me the floor is about to be free, and instructs me to meet him out there. I close my eyes as he presses his lips to my forehead in a gentle kiss before walking away to get our stuff ready.

Talia gawks at Bellamy as he saunters off, then looks back at me, “My god, the chemistry between you guys is just… ridiculous. Seriously, it’s kinda sickening...”  

I embrace the pride that surges through me when she tells me this. I grin as I shamelessly ogle my man, “Yeah…”

After a few more minutes of small talk with Talia, Bellamy nods at me, my signal to get my ass over there already. I can see Lucas and Mandy are already off to the side, ready for us to begin our scene. I smile as I look back at Talia, “We’ll meet you guys afterwards?”

Talia nods with a smile, “Yeah, now go do your thing.”

I head toward the floor, the click-clack of my stilettos grounding me to reality. My heart feels like it skips a few beats when my gaze lands on Bellamy, who waits for me with a predatory gleam in his dark eyes.

I stand in front of him and he smiles reassuringly.  He speaks softly, “I have a plan for a full suspension, if you’re still up for it.”

I nod with an eager smile. “Yeah, definitely. What kind?”

“Inversion, single leg.”

My breath hitches when he says _inversion_. It’s essentially the most dangerous of suspensions for many reasons (chief among them being death), but that’s part of its appeal for experienced riggers. Bellamy and I demonstrate inversions at ropes classes, but those demonstrations are always very matter-of-fact, almost clinical in nature. Safety and instruction are the priorities of those demos. Until now, we haven't had a chance to do one in a more… sensual context. Inversion suspension requires spotters and helpers because it’s dangerous and physically demanding for both riggers and rope bottoms, so it’s not like we can do it at home by ourselves. Well, we _could_ but we would be idiots to take that kind of risk.

I give him a smile, “Okay. Can my left leg be on top? It’s more flexible.”

He nods, “Yeah, that was my plan anyway. Remember, your actual leg won’t be holding any weight. The hip harness is what will be suspending you. I’ll just be binding your leg along the length of the vertical rope. It’ll keep the leg pointed up without causing it to bear any weight.”

I smile, “I remember. I just like to have my left leg up because I can do the splits better with my left leg in ‘front.’”

He winks shamelessly, “I won’t be complaining about that view.”

I roll my eyes, continuing with my questions, “And is this going to be a pleasure-oriented suspension? Or pain-oriented?”

“I think you’ve dealt with enough pain tonight. Just some pleasurable sensation play.” He tells me with a grin. “We won’t do a long session once you’re suspended and off the ground. I can’t leave you inverted for long.”

I nod, “Yeah, blood to the head and all.”

“Exactly.”

“So, to reiterate: a pleasure-oriented sensation play session, with a suspension rig, inverted with my left leg pointed up, and spending only a short amount of time in actual inversion.”

He nods, “Yes.”

I give him a smile, “Sounds good to me.”

“Are you ready Princess?”

I nod with a calm smile, “Yes, Sir.”

He nods approvingly, “Good girl.”

A shiver shoots through me as he ambles around behind me. His hands make their way to my arms and he gently drags his fingers up to my shoulders, where he gathers the fabric of the robe’s upper edge in his hands. He pauses, waiting for me to consent. He gives me a moment to consider the fact that I am, again, baring myself completely to those around us. I nod slowly and feel his hands unhurriedly pull the fabric off my shoulders and down my arms. The cool air of the room blows over my skin and goosebumps erupt all over my naked form. I feel Bellamy press his lips to my newly-exposed shoulder and my body enters a state of excitement while my mind embraces the gentle tranquility afforded to me by my loving Dom.

He guides me to the center of the play floor. The Tetruss frame is set up a few feet off-center. When I come to a stop, Bellamy walks a large circle around me, inspecting my naked body, adorned with the chains and clamps he placed earlier. He strokes the chains gently, enough to remind me that they’re connected to my highly sensitive nipples, but not enough to cause genuine pain. No, that will come next…

“I’m going to take these off, Princess.” .

I nod, “Yes, please… Sir.”

“Hands behind your back.”

I comply, grasping my forearms with shaky fingers. His fingers trail along the round curves of my breasts in lazy circles, edging closer and closer to my clamped nipples. I close my eyes, giving myself over to the sensations being delivered to me. My senses are swarmed by pleasure until a searing pain burns through me as blood rushes back to my nipples. I take a deep, moaning breath as the pulsing pain begins to wane, evolving into a state of hypersensitivity… After the remaining chains are removed, he directs me to step out of my heels, a move that leaves me feeling smaller than ever in this large space. I focus on Bellamy and everything around us falls by the wayside.

He starts the actual suspension process by tying me in a hip harness, which he ties with practiced precision so that it will hold weight without tightening or constricting. He is using jute rope because it doesn’t stretch, which is very important with suspension bondage. If a rope were to stretch after the knots were tied, it could allow the knots to tighten too far. It would equally bad if the ropes were to shift unintentionally, putting pressure on places that should be left alone, such as nerve groups and major blood vessels. Bellamy has explained these things in the past, and as he begins the tying process, I think of all of his little factoids and safety rules.

Bellamy continues to wrap the rope around me as he maneuvers my body, and I close my eyes, allowing myself to just _feel_. The fluidity with which he moves is so peaceful, and his tranquility is contagious. I luxuriate in the sensations of his fingertips and lips and tongue as he drags them along my exposed skin in the process. I huff a laugh when I feel him nip at the side of my breast, but my laugh is cut off by an unashamed moan when he sucks a tender nipple into his gentle mouth. He continues his luscious teasing and touching, and by the time I open my eyes, he’s finished with the hip harness, tied snugly around me. I relish the feeling of the rope biting into my skin when it’s tight like this. It fills my body with an undeniably carnal energy.

He brings me to the Tetruss frame and instructs me, “Lie down on your back, Princess.”

I comply, noting that by my left foot, there is a large ring with ropes already attached to one side, which will be used when pulling me into the suspension. It’s hard to tell in my excited state, but I think a panic clip is attached to the rope on the ring. He attaches multiple lengths of rope to my hip harness, then secures them to the ring at the end, opposite of the rope already there (which will be the end attached to the pulley). The ring is located below my toes, about six inches longer than the length of my leg when my toes are pointed. Then, he secures rope around the circumference of my leg at several points from my mid-thigh to my ankle. Again, my weight will be held by my hips, but my left leg will be bound so it points straight up to rest along the weight-bearing vertical column of ropes.

Bellamy is constantly checking for circulation problems. He repeatedly asks during the tying process whether I’m having tingling, pain, or numbness. He watches the colors of my skin, and has me wiggle and spread individual toes. He asks me to specifically make sure to tell him if I feel any numbness or tingling at my knees during this session, as that could mean the femoral nerve is being compressed. He’ll continue these questions and safety checks until the ropes are off of my body at the very end.

After checking and rechecking the knots, he stands up to begin the suspension process. I remain on my back on the floor position while the long rope that’s attached to the other side of the ring is run through the ring at the apex of the Tetruss frame. Lucas and Mandy stand a few feet away, ready to support my head and/or shoulders if needed. Then Bellamy gently and slowly pulls on the rope until my leg is pointing upwards and my hips are slightly off the floor. He checks in with me, asking me how I’m feeling. I smile and tell him, _“Cherries”_ when I’m ready to keep going.

Being suspended is such a sensual experience. As I’m raised off the floor, I feel my freedom taken away little by little. I can see the desire in Bellamy’s eyes deepen as I become more and more helpless, and the thought sends a deep shudder through me. He continues the process of raising me up until I’m fully suspended. Lucas and Mandy assist, making sure I don’t hit my head or overstrain myself on the way “up.” Once I’m at the desired height, Bellamy begins to secure the suspending ropes in place. While he works on that, Mandy and Lucas support my head and body so that my torso (and head) are parallel to the floor, preventing blood from rushing to my brain. This allows Bellamy to take his time securing the ropes without worrying about cutting into “play time” during suspension, because once I’m upside-down, the clock is ticking. After the ropes are secure, Bellamy nods and our two helpers slowly and steadily lower my head down so I’m hanging upside down.

When Mandy and Lucas step away, I feel the full intended effect of suspension bondage: a sense of _intense vulnerability and almost terrifying inescapability_. I crane my neck to look at the floor and I’m reminded that if I were to attempt to free myself, or if the ropes were not tied properly, I could actually fucking _die_. A fall from any suspension can lead to serious injury, but a fall from an inversion can lead to brain damage or even death. Suddenly, my mind is overrun by thoughts of being a vegetable in a hospital bed, waiting for someone to pull the plug. Before my head goes all the way “down the rabbit hole,” I feel Bellamy’s hands on each side of my head. He’s kneeling down and his face is level with mine. He whispers calming words to me, “ _I’m here Princess…. I got you… You’re safe… Breathe…”_ And within seconds, I’m okay again.

I nod, “Just… don’t leave me alone, okay?”

He smiles and kisses my forehead, “I’m right here with you. I’m always with you.”

I sigh shakily, “Thank you.”

His face is adorned with a smile so sincere, my chest squeezes a bit. “Are you ready to go on?”

I smile back with a nod, “Cherries, Sir.”

“You’re so fucking beautiful…” he whispers against my ear. I smile as his peace washes over me.

He kisses my lips, which is an extremely erotic act while upside down. I’m overwhelmed by the thought that could get lost in this man… I feel his fingers trailing along my sides as he breaks the kiss and rises to his feet.

“We have a mirror. Do you want to see yourself like this?” It’s as if he could read my mind. At this point, I would ask for pictures, but that’s not allowed down here. I nod my head in the affirmative and a mirror immediately comes into view. I look at my reflection and I can see that my body is not hanging in a straight up-and-down line because I’m suspended from my hips, not my ankles. Instead, my back is arched. I look like a ballerina in an upside-down arabesque.

I marvel, “That’s so beautiful…” The lines of my body are so graceful, and I feel gorgeous like this. After a few more moments of admiring Bellamy’s work, I close my eyes, because I realize (all over again) that I’m not a fan of seeing the world upside down. Bellamy maintains physical contact with me the entire time, usually by simply keeping a hand on my arm or thigh. He just makes sure I can feel his presence. I know he hasn’t left me alone. Someone rolls the cart over to us and I can hear Bellamy riffling through it. After a few moments with no sensation other than Bellamy’s gentle hand resting on my thigh, I feel an extremely cold sensation on my abdomen… “What do you feel, Princess?”

I shiver, “Is that melting ice?”

“Very good, Princess.” I feel the cool water dripping on my belly. I devote my concentration to the chilled lines drawn on my skin, imagining what they look like as my abdomen twitches in response to the frigid fluids. The streaks of water are slightly warmer by the time they reach my chest.

I feel a warmer fluid drip down onto the undersides of my breasts… It trickles down toward the floor, but slows down as it travels. I smile, “Wax?”

His vocal tone is sweet, “That’s right, Princess.” I take a deep breath so that I can feel the hardening wax lift slightly off my ribs, physically confirming my guess.   He drips the wax all over my torso and down my thighs, and the sensations are increasingly soothing. I give myself over to the warmth of the dribbling wax, feeling it solidify all over my skin. Then, without warning, I’m overcome by intense pleasure as a vibrator is held to my clit. Ecstasy reverberates through my entire body, drawing my soul into a depraved revelry of the senses. I can’t hold back my pleasured cries as I’m almost instantly brought to the edge of orgasm.

I can barely form words, but I manage to rasp out, “ _Please! Can I c-c-“_

He caresses my nipples with his hands while he licks his tongue underneath pieces of the hardened wax. I hear his graveled voice tell me, “Come for me, Princess.”

I succumb to the pure bliss that crashes through me in waves.  My head starts to rush from the combination of orgasm and inversion and I feel body twisting itself and writhing around as I yield to the decadent sensations that flood my entire existence…

My breaths are heaving as I recover from an orgasm that I can only describe as _haunting_. As my head starts to clear up, I register that in my state of ecstasy I’ve managed to contort my body so that I’m no longer inverted. In fact, I’m right side up, holding onto my suspended leg while my right leg continues to dangle. I open my eyes and find myself rotating slowly under the frame. I feel Bellamy’s hands and I follow them until I can _see_ him. He furrows his brows in confusion before shaking his head, “Holy fuck.”

After a few moments, I shrug my shoulders, honestly kind of impressed by my own display of strength and agility. “Uhm… Yoga?”

I hear our audience laugh quietly at my little quip.

Bellamy smirks with a gentle shake of his head, “Jesus christ…” He steadies me, as I’ve started rotating again. “We’re gonna get you down now, okay?”

I nod, “Do I have to go upside-down again?”

He shakes his head, “No, just sit tight. I’m going to lift you up to remove the weight tension while Lucas loosens the suspension rope.” Bellamy wraps his hands around my waist and lifts me up so my ass is resting on his shoulder while my free leg dangles over his back. His grip is firm and safe. If I were to lose balance, he would easily steady me, or catch me if need be. As I balance myself on Bellamy, Lucas quickly unties the ropes that are holding the Shibari ring (and me) up. Lucas slackens the rope and Bellamy tells me, “Okay, slide down now into my arms.” I comply and curl myself into my lover as he cradles me in his arms – one arm around my shoulders and the other under my knees. With all tension in the rope gone, Lucas pulls the remaining length out of the Tetruss ring, fully detaching me from the frame. He gathers up the rope and follows Bellamy and I to a side room, the kink cart in tow. I smile gratefully at Lucas as I hold onto Bellamy’s neck, thankful that we have their help so that I don’t have to leave Bellamy’s arms. The room we’re in this time has just a bondage table. Bellamy sets me down on it and retrieves a blanket from the cart so he can cover me in it. It isn’t until he covers me that I realize that I was cold. He cracks the seal on a water bottle and hands it to me so I can re-hydrate.

Lucas turns to leave and Bellamy asks, “Luc, can you send Mandy in?” Lucas nods with a grin and leaves the room.

As Bellamy situates me, I fiddle with a ring on the side of the bondage table and give Bellamy an inquisitive look, wondering if we’re going to play with it next.

He shakes his head with a chuckle, “Not tonight, Princess… We’ve had enough _fun_ of that variety for one night.”

I smile, “But we’re not _all_ done with… activities, are we?”

He smirks, “Not if you don’t want to be.”

With a shake of my head, I confirm “No. I don’t want to be done.”

He smiles as he begins to untie the rope, “We’ve gotta get these off, first.” He removes the ropes from the suspension ring first, then unties the ones that wrap around my leg. After he removes the long ropes from the hip harness he asks, “Can you stand?”

I nod and rise from the table so he can release me from the hip harness. I adore the sensation of being untied. To feel the fibers bite into my skin, then release it… it’s a beautiful sensual encounter. Bellamy gently kisses my skin where the ropes have left deep, exquisite indentations. I admire the eye-catching pattern adorning my hips, and when I see the lust pooled in Bellamy’s eyes, thoughts of anything but him are difficult to come by. I’m about to pounce on him when we’re interrupted by Mandy knocking lightly at the door. It’s probably for the best, considering that I want to save up the energy for upcoming activities.

“Lucas said you wanted to see me?”

Bellamy nods and tilts his head toward me, so I take over.

“Um… so, we were wondering if you wanted to join us upstairs for some… fun… of the carnal variety? With Lucas and Talia?”

Mandy’s smile is almost electric as she nods, “I’d love to.”

I nod back with a grin, “Good. I was hoping you’d say that.”

Bellamy adds, “It’ll be the five of us, unless you want to bring someone. And I think we’re going to be heading up there after the party wraps up down here.”

Mandy chuckles, “Well, it shouldn’t be long now. People are starting to head home now that you and Miss-Acrobat here are finished up. You kind of closed down the dance floor. Or play floor.”

I raise an eyebrow and look at Bellamy. He smiles, “That’s a compliment, Princess.”

I nod with a nervous smile, “Oh, wow. That’s cool.” I feel myself getting more and more excited, now that our miniature orgy is on the horizon. I chuckle, “Fuck…”

Mandy smiles again, “Well, if you’re serious about me bringing someone, I think I have someone in mind.”

Bellamy looks at me and shrugs. I ask, “Who?”

Mandy is gauging my reaction when she says, “Um, Magnus, actually. If I’m not mistaken, all of us except Clarke have played with him before.”

Bellamy nods, “No, you’re not mistaken, and he’d be a solid addition. He certainly keeps things… interesting. What do you think Clarke?”

I bite my lip, honestly curious after the snippet of Magnus-history he hinted at earlier tonight. “Yeah, I’d be okay with it if you are.”

Bellamy smirks, “Same here, Princess.”

Mandy smiles, “Cool. We’ll see you up there, then?”

Bellamy and I nod, “See you up there.”

Mandy pauses a moment then adds, “And guys?”

I look up, “Hmm?”

“Thanks for the invite.”

Bellamy and I look at each other and smile before looking back at her. I tell her with a grin, “We’re glad you said yes.”

Mandy leaves the room and I give Bellamy a knowing grin. “Okay, now you _have_ to spill. What’s up with Magnus? You get this… _look_ when he’s brought up.”

Bellamy rubs the back of his neck with a nervous laugh, “Yeah, um… He’s the only guy I’ve ever fucked, not counting oral. And the only one who’s ever fucked me. Again, not counting oral.”

I can feel the salacious smirk stretch across my face, “Well… If I thought the Lucas-Bellamy visual was hot, I clearly hadn’t considered this.”

Bellamy gives me a sidelong glance, “I can’t tell if that’s good or bad.”

I huff a laugh, “Uh...” My gaze locks onto his, “Let’s just say that that visual is going in the spank bank.”

He stares at me for a second, “It doesn’t weird you out?”                         .

I shake my head, “No, it doesn’t weird me out. Does it weird you out to know that I’ve had sex with other women?”

He smirks, “No, that’s hot. But people tend to think of two guys together… differently.”

I shrug, “Well, I don’t.” I chuckle, “Honestly, it’s a turn-on that I didn’t realize I had until now. Though I probably would have realized it _sooner_ if you’d told me before… Why didn’t you?”

He shrugs, “I’m sorry. I really should have. But I didn’t really know how to bring it up. With the exception of the Echo debacle, we don’t really talk about past partners, Clarke.”

I nod, “I guess you’re right. I mean, the last time we had a serious conversation about our sexual history, the Raven thing came up and we couldn’t continue the conversation.”

He snorts, “That was only because we both got too turned on and ended up fucking the hell out of each other, Clarke.”

I shrug matter-of-factly, “Well, she was the first woman I’d ever had sex with. So, you know, memories and all...” I grin, “I remember you looked fucking _terrified_ to tell me.” I give a terrible impression of Bellamy’s voice, “‘ _Clarke, I need to tell you something…’_ ” We both laugh at my attempt to emulate Bellamy’s vocal tone. “Like, I was freaking out because thought you were going to tell me you had cancer or something.”

He laughs, “Well, I was terrified. I thought you were gonna kill me or leave me once I told you.”

I giggle, “Then you’re all like ‘ _Um, in the interest of full disclosure, I slept with Raven a long time ago_.’”

He laughs, “And of course your response was _‘So did I…’”_ He rolls his eyes with a laugh, “Leave it to Raven to use both of us as rebound fucks...”

“Well, like I told you then, she’d told me years before about it, and I had long since moved past any hurt feelings. So yeah, when you finally did tell me, I had actually kind of forgotten about it. I just found it to be ridiculously hot to compare notes.” I feel a meaningful look grace my features, “I’m sorry you felt like you couldn’t tell me about Magnus.”  

He shakes his head, “No, really, it didn’t feel like that. It just didn’t come up. Though I won’t lie, I was a little worried it would freak you out.”

I give him a level look, “Says the sadist to the masochist... I think there are very few things you can tell me that will freak me out, okay, Bell?”

He kisses my forehead, “I’ll remember that... I love you, Clarke.”

“And you know I love you too.” After a few minutes of comfortable silence, I ask, “You and I both know that just because you’ve been with another man doesn’t automatically make you bi, but _do_ you consider yourself to be bisexual?”

He shakes his head, “I’d say Mag was more of an exercise in curiosity than anything else. I wasn’t into it like I’m into women.”

“Was it a bad experience?”

A smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth, “No, I wouldn’t say that. It was just… different.”

“I can understand that. So I take it you’re not looking for a repeat?”

He shakes his head with a lustful grin, “The only ass I want to fuck is yours.”

I smack at his chest, “Stop teasing me, saying things like that! Every time I try to get you to do it, you shoot it down!”

He tugs absentmindedly on my robe, “I just don’t want to hurt you.” He pauses, “I mean, not like that.”

I give him a seductive grin, “I think you’d get me ready just fine, Bell.”

He laughs staring at some spot on the ceiling, “Fuck, I think you’re the only woman I know begging for anal sex.”

I shrug, “Well, Talia was raving about it. So, I’m not the _only_ one.”

He raises an eyebrow, “Well, I guess I’ve been learning all kinds of new things today.”

Giving him a smirk I tell him, “Consider yourself educated. But since we’re on the subject of anal, I thought I might run something by you… now that you’re planted a certain seed in my depraved brain. And it doesn’t have to be anything we even talk about tonight, but it’s just something that crossed my mind just now.”

Bellamy shoots me a lascivious grin, “So it’s something dirty?”

I press my lips together sheepishly and nod.

He gives me a wicked grin, “Your turn to spill, Princess.”

I shrug, “Okay, so you said you don’t want to fuck anyone’s ass but mine, which again, not fair to tease me like that. But anyway. Would you let Mag or another guy you know… do… you? While you’re fucking me?”

He throws his head back with a strained laugh, “Holy fuck, Clarke.”

I give him an inquisitive glance, “That’s not an answer…”

He shrugs, “I don’t know. Give me some time to think about it.”

I nod, “Of course. I mean, it’s just something I like, thought of. Just now, because when you said you and Magnus had, like… you know… It just got me thinking about... things and all that, but really it’s not a big deal… okay I’m rambling, please shut me up.”

With an endearing smile, Bellamy brings my face to his and gives me a gentle kiss.

I chuckle “Thank you.”

He shakes his head, “You’re incredible. You know that, right?”

I nod, “You keep saying that. And you make me believe it.”

“Good.”

I smile, “Shall we go see what’s up out there?” I point toward the door that leads to the main room.

He nods, “Yeah, sure.”

* * *

 

We step out of the room and sure enough, guests are packing up and leaving. Following suit, Bellamy gathers our personal belongings back into the bag we brought down earlier so that we can put them in our room.

Finally, _finally_ it’s time. Talia catches my gaze and waggles her eyebrows playfully. She tilts her head toward the steps as she mouths the words, _“Meet us upstairs.”_ I wait for Bellamy to finish packing everything, trying not to fidget or tap the toes of my shoes against the floor. I make a concerted effort to not bite my fingernails in my nervous and excited state. I don’t see Lucas or the others anywhere. As Bellamy reaches my side tells me that Lucas and everyone else are already upstairs in the master suite.

We make our way upstairs and drop off our things at our room. He tells me I can leave my heels in our room – one less thing to keep track of when we’re up there. Bellamy sheds his clothes and I rake my eyes shamelessly up and down his naked form. Knowing better than to start something we don’t have time to finish, Bellamy smirks and wraps himself in a long satin robe that reminds me of something I’d see at the playboy mansion. I would laugh if I weren’t so fucking turned right now.

“You ready, Princess?”

I come to his side and steady myself with a hand on his shoulder so I can stand on my tiptoes and plant a soft kiss on his cheek. It’s an impulsive but tender gesture, one which he seems to appreciate because he curls his arms around me and pulls me to stand in front of him. I close my eyes as he cups my face, peppering calm kisses on my face, ending with a chaste press of his lips to mine.

He leans back, still cradling my cheeks in his palms, “You sure about this?”

I nod, “I am. As long as you’re with me. Are _you_ sure about it?”

He smiles, “Yeah, Princess. Together.”

I bring my hands to his wrists and squeeze them reassuringly, “Together…”

 

* * *

I follow Bellamy to the master suite, where Lucas, Talia, Magnus, and Mandy are already gathered. The girls are sitting cross-legged on the bed while Lucas leans against a bedpost and Magnus leans against the high-set mattress. All four are clad in satin robes similar to those Bellamy and I are wearing. I make my way over to sit on the edge of the bed next to the girls and Bellamy leans against the mattress between my knees.

Lucas speaks, “So, to start out, the main activity tonight is sexual. Because of that, I just want to clarify to everyone that the test results you last sent are on file, and I can confirm that everyone is free of sexually transmitted infections, including HIV. Now, those results are a few weeks old for most of you, so if there is anything that has come to light since then, now would be a good time to let us know.”

Everyone shakes their heads, indicating that the STI-free status of each party remains.

Lucas continues, “Good to hear.” He points to several tables around the room and says, “Lube is located everywhere. Use it if you need it, because I don’t want to hear about friction injuries when they could have been prevented. Also, condoms are encouraged for those engaging in sexual activity that occurs on this bed, mainly because I don’t want to sleep in cum-covered sheets. If you’re away from the bed, I don’t care if you guys want to do a bukkake scene. Just keep your jizz off my sheets, please.” He’s grinning when he says it, but I absolutely get where he’s coming from. We all nod in agreement and Lucas continues, “Now that that’s out of the way, we need to set out and agree to limits for tonight. Also, if you have specific things you want out of this, now would be a good time to voice those.” We all nod in agreement. “Magnus, you start us out.”

The man smirks, “I have virtually no limits.” He gives us all a salacious look, but then his voice takes on a serious tone for the first time tonight. “But, I will absolutely respect any and all limits that are set forth by the rest of you.” I feel somewhat relieved when he says this, and I have no doubt of his sincerity. I don’t know him very well, so he was kind of a wild card, but I feel better knowing Bellamy is here.

We all nod and Lucas directs everyone’s attention to Mandy, “Mandy, limits and requests?”

Mandy stands taller, “My limits are… few. I guess just breath play, blood play, scat, bestiality.” She grins, “And I’d really like to taste Clarke.” My breath hitches at her brazen statement, and I’m pretty sure the floodgates just opened between my thighs.

I nod with a shy grin, “I’d like that, too. And if it’s alright, I’d like to… taste you, too.” Mandy nods with a smile.

Lucas nods, “Clarke, you’re next. Limits and requests.”

I give a nervous smile, “Um. This is my first time doing a multi-partner thing. So, yeah…” I get an encouraging look from Talia, and find it in myself to continue. I sit up a little straighter, “My general limits are scat play, bestiality, cutting, permanent body modification… And my limits specific to this are that I would like to engage physically only with Bellamy, Talia and Mandy. I don’t mean to offend the guys in the room, but I’d really just like Bellamy to be the only man I have sex with.” Everyone in the room agrees to my parameters. “As far as requests go, like I said, I’d like to do oral with both girls. Receiving and giving.”

I look thoughtfully over at Bellamy, “And this sounds weird, but I have some limits on what I’ll be okay with Bellamy doing. Is it appropriate to voice those right now?”

Lucas nods with everyone else, “Of course.”

“Um, I don’t want him having sex, like penetrative sex, with another woman. I’d be okay with him giving or receiving oral. Like, I’m not saying ‘hey go eat out so-and-so,’ but if in the heat of the moment, it felt ‘right’ or it happened or whatever, I’m just saying ahead of time that I’d be okay with it. But that’s up to Bellamy- I mean ‘B’…” I look around at our playmates and remember, “OH! I totally want to see one, or both of you guys suck B’s cock.” I cough, almost embarrassed by my brazen request. “You know, if it’s something everyone's cool with." God, my rambling was embarrassing. I’m a respected medical doctor and I just sounded like a flustered teenager…

Bellamy rests a reassuring hand on my knee. “In regards to Clarke’s limits, I feel the same way. It should come as no surprise that I’m a little on the possessive side when it comes to her, so I’m not down with seeing her with another man.” He scratches the back of his neck the way he does when he’s feeling awkward, “As for participating with other women, I guess I see where she’s coming from, when she’s talking about the heat of the moment. Because she’s got a point, things happen. But I’m really not looking to play with anyone but her.” He looks down at me with a sweet smile, “Tonight is about her.” He smirks at me, “That being said, I’ll do whatever she wants me to do.” I blink in surprise, since this is pretty much the opposite of his Dom persona. It’s definitely planting ideas in my head for the future… I take his hand between mine and he gives me a kiss on my temple.

Lucas nods at Bellamy, then turns his attention to Talia, “Talia, limits and requests?”

Talia glances at all of us teasingly, one-by-one. Fuck, this girl knows how to play a room. She’s gorgeous, and she knows it. But there’s something about the way she carries herself, with self-assurance, grace, _and_ obedience… I can see why Luc is so into her. It makes me happy for them, because the way he looks at her is just like the way Bellamy looks at me.

Talia’s vocal tone sounds like that of a teacher listing off rules or something. If she were standing, I imagine she’d have one hand perched on her hip while she pointed at things with the other hand. “My limits are that I’m not going to get fucked by anyone but Luc, Clarke, and Mandy. No offense, Mag and B, but you know the rules.”

Magnus chuckles, clearly in on some inside joke or something. “I know, Talia. You’re the boss.”

My eyebrows rise to my forehead. _The boss?_ Then it all clicks. Of course… She holds the true power, just like I do in my relationship with Bellamy. It’s a strange paradox – the submissive is the one who has veto power. We set our boundaries, and communicate what we want, and we charge our partners with fulfilling our fantasies. Bellamy’s words so long ago – that he believes I _submit from a place of strength_ – make even more sense right now. Because Talia, without question, holds all the cards in that relationship. Just like I do with Bellamy. Bellamy was serious when he said that tonight _is_ about me…

I’m snapped back to reality as Talia continues. “Um, hands off Luc’s cock. Because it’s mine. Well, it’s his. But nobody but me gets to have it.”

Luc smiles broadly at his woman, and they’re so fucking in love it’s almost gross. Now I see what Bellamy and I look like to outsiders. I look up at Bellamy with a knowing grin. I whisper to him, “Just fair warning, I’ll be zealously possessive of your cock once these little fantasies of mine are fulfilled. Probably worse than her. That cool with you?”

He chuckles with a kiss on my cheek, “Yeah, Princess. Whatever you want.” I feel a little thrill shoot through me at that statement.

Talia keeps going, “I really, really want to go down on Clarke. Lots of times. And at least one of those times I’d like to do it while B’s fucking her.”

My eyes widen, and if my legs weren’t separated by Bellamy leaning between them, I’d be feverishly clenching my thighs together right now. I feel my breath coming in shallow pants. _Holy shit_. I nod excitedly, grinning, “ _Fuck_ , yes!” I cough, trying to backtrack and not look so pathetically eager. “I mean, yeah, that sounds hot.”

Talia smiles, “Yeah. It _will_ be fucking hot. And at some point, I’d also like to fuck Clarke and Mandy at the same time. Maybe make a daisy chain out of it? Would that work for you guys?”

Mandy smirks and gives me a knowing look and we both nod. I feel Bellamy’s grip on my hip tighten when he pulls me close so he can whisper in my ear, “You do realize that this is going to be one of the hottest fucking things I’ve ever seen, right?”

I grin down at his ever-growing erection, “Yeah, I was picking up on that.”

Talia looks over at Luc, “And at some point, I want one of you ladies to fuck me with a dildo, or the strap-on, while Luc is fucking my ass. Because I’ve been craving some DP. So you can work it out amongst yourselves who gets to fuck me and who’s gonna be eaten out by me at the same time.”

My jaw drops open, “Holy _fuck_.” I look around at everyone, all of whom are grinning at my exclamation. “Sorry, that was a little loud.”

Mandy laughs, “I love the eagerness. I’d like to get in on that too – have one of you girls to go down on me while Mag fucks me.”

Talia grins, “I think that can be arranged…”

Lucas clears his throat, looking like he’s barely holding it together. That expression is shared by all of the men in the room. “Okay, real quick, my limits are Talia’s. Like Mag said, she’s the boss. Whatever she wants.” He gestures to Talia, Mandy, and I sitting on the bed. “Now after everything the women just said, I’m pretty fucking sure my mind is not capable of anything besides _fucking_ now, so...”

He’s already groping Talia, who slips her hand into his robe to grab onto his dick, and just like that, _holy fuck_ , this party is starting. To my left, I see Magnus grab Mandy’s ankles and drag her to the edge of the bed, where she shrieks with a laugh and pulls him down for a kiss. I turn to face Bellamy with a grin, “Shall we?”

He smiles and pulls me off the bed to stand up with him. He cradles my face between his palms and nods, “I love you.”

I reach up and cover his hands with mine, “I love you, too.” My smile transforms into a sultry grin, “Now, are you gonna fuck me, or what?”

He laughs before he pulls me into a demanding kiss, and _fuck_ I’m absorbed by him. He starts walking us around the bed, I just close my eyes and trust him to get us where he needs us. I feel the mattress behind me again, so I know we’ve reached the other side of the bed. I hear unquestionably erotic sounds from behind me that have me very, very curious, so I pull my face away from Bellamy’s so I can get a better look. He knows exactly where my head is at, so he grins against my neck and turns me around. I anchor my palms against the mattress in front of me and Bellamy pulls my hips back slightly so that I’m in a “bent over” position.

“Keep your hands on the mattress, Princess.”

I look back at him and nod with a smirk, “Yes, Sir.”

He tilts his head toward everyone else, “Check that out.”

I turn my head to look and I’m taken aback by the scene in front of me: Everyone’s robes have vanished already, which leaves me wondering why mine is still on. Lucas is behind Talia, whose face is just _ecstatic_ as he enters her from behind. Mandy drops to her knees in front of Talia and spreads her pussy open, seemingly mesmerized by the view of Lucas’s dick pumping into her. As Mandy takes her first lick at Talia’s clit, Bellamy takes it upon himself to mimic the actions of Mandy’s tongue with his talented fingers, and _holy fucking shit_ the effect is incredible.

Bellamy dips his fingers into my slit, gathering the obscene amount of wetness gathered there, so when he swipes at my clit, my brain easily pretends that it’s Mandy’s tongue I’m feeling. I’ll find out what the real thing feels like soon enough, but for now, _oh my god…_ When Mandy sucks Talia’s clit into her mouth, Bellamy rolls mine softly between his fingers. My knees threaten to buckle at the powerful combination of sensations and visual stimulation. I’ve been so focused on Mandy’s mouth and Talia’s pussy that I’m startled when I see Mag take up a position behind Mandy, ready to fuck her.

Just as Mag slides his cock into Mandy, Bellamy takes the opportunity to sheath himself into me. And _oh god_ where does he get these ideas? Every thrust Mag makes, Bellamy makes into me in perfect synchronicity. Every flick to Talia’s clit is replicated on mine with his dexterous fingers. I’m nearing the edge embarrassingly quickly, and Bellamy is reveling in my blissed-out cries. “Oh god, I’m gonna come!”

Bellamy bites the back of my neck and growls, “Do you have my permission to come, Princess?”

I shake my head, “No, but I-“ My pleas are cut off by the blissful sensation of Bellamy’s cock grazing my G-spot from a new angle, provoking a throaty groan from me.

He slaps my ass hard, and the harsh sound catches the lascivious and curious glances of our playmates across the room. He asks again in a menacing voice that ensures I am positively _dripping_. “I asked you a question, Princess. Do. You. Have. My. Permission?”   He punctuates each word with a deep thrust.

My breaths come in pants as I shake my head, “N-no. I d-don’t have your permission, S-sir.”

He laughs, “So you’ve gotta beg for it.”

I see my knuckles are white from the strength of my grip on the mattress in front of me, pleasure coiling deep in my belly, “P-please!” I know it’s not enough, but it turns me on to no end to hear him reprimand me for it. I get a deep erotic thrill out of the humiliation I experience from being so harshly scolded.

“That was fucking pathetic. You and I both know you can do better.”

I nod frantically, trying to ignore my throbbing clit as I cry out, “Please! _Please_ can I come for you?! I need to come! _Please, Sir!_ ”

Surprisingly, in a show of mercy, he assents without further torment, “Yes you may. _Come for me_ , Princess.”

I cry out with a guttural moan as my orgasm crashes through me. As the waves of pleasure become more manageable, I sigh happily as I collapse against the mattress, “ _Thank you_.”

Bellamy chuckles and I look back at him with a lazy smile. He smirks and nods his head toward our playmates, who have made their way over to us. I lift my head back up from the mattress and find that they’re all watching me recover. I feel like I _should_ be embarrassed by my… display, but instead I’m even more turned on that I had an audience for it. I have to wonder what the fuck that means…

Magnus speaks up, “Holy fuck, B. Your sub is absolutely _orgasmic_.” I look back up at Bellamy, who nods proudly.

“Yeah, she fucking is.”

I grin, “Oh, he’s barely gotten started… Just you guys wait.”

Talia comes walking around to our side of the bed. I stand up and lean back against Bellamy. Talia whispers in my ear, “What if I don’t _want_ to wait?”

I give her a challenging smirk, “Well, I think you should do something about it, then.”

She nods at Bellamy then tilts her head to a section of the floor covered in satin sheets and pillows. “Floor.” Bellamy huffs a laugh and pulls out of me. I groan when I feel that he’s still hard as fucking granite. He slowly removes my satin robe (his is already off, and I’m not quite sure when that happened, but I’m not complaining _at all_ ), then leads me over to what I will now call “the sex cove” because the blue and green color of the satin reminds me of an ocean cove. Bellamy squeezes my shoulder and tells me to take a seat in the middle. My heart races as I drop to my knees, then into a seated position. Bellamy sits down behind me with his legs on each side of me, inviting me to lean against his chest. He snakes his hand around to play between my folds, teasing the sensitive skin. I close my eyes and listen to his graveled voice tell me, _“Relax, Princess… We’re gonna take care of you.”_  

Bellamy’s fingers abandon their activities between my legs, and he drags them, dripping wet, along my inner thigh in the direction of my knee. I feel his other hand mirror those actions until he’s spreading my legs apart. Talia comes into view, dropping to her knees with a grin. Bellamy rubs relaxing circles on the insides of my thighs as Talia sits down, looking at me with a playful expression on her face. When her gaze trails to my pussy, she bites her lower lip teasingly.

She addresses me, “Clarke, baby…”

I sigh shakily at the longing tone in her voice as I respond, “Y-yeah?

She smiles indulgently, “Oh Clarke, you have such a pretty pussy.” She glances up at Bellamy, “Wouldn’t you agree?”

I feel Bellamy nodding behind me and pressing kisses to my hair. His deep voice is thick as honey, “My favorite word for her cunt is _exquisite_.”

Talia moans, “Mmmm, fuck yes, I agree.” She walks her fingers provocatively along the inside of my leg, pushing harder into my skin as she gets closer to my heat. “Clarke, sweetie… you look delicious. I’d _very much_ like to see what you taste like.” I shudder with a frenzied nod, my voice completely failing me in my heightened state of arousal. “B, I think she wants me to lick her cunt. Do you think so?”

Bellamy chuckles, “Yeah, I really think she does.” He squeezes my waist with one of his large hands.

Talia giggles (seriously, she _giggles_ ) like a porn-star schoolgirl, “Mmm, yeah, I think she does. Is that alright with you, B? Can I lick her glistening cunt?”

Bellamy trails his fingers along my sides as he answers, “Fuck, yes you can.”

Talia sits back on her heels, “Can she sit on your lap, B? It’ll make it easier for me to eat her out while Luc fucks me if she’s a little higher off the ground. I’d say your lap is the perfect height.”

I nod eagerly and Bellamy laughs, “I think she agrees.”

“Oh, good. Actually, I think she should sit on your cock. Yeah, I think that’d be even better.”

I shudder with a loud cry, “ _God_ , yes.”

The rest of the group laughs, “Oh, _now_ she has a voice.”

I chuckle, “Yeah, yeah…” My voice is still pitifully breathy. “But really, I wanna get fucked by my boyfriend’s cock while Talia eats me out. _Goddammit_ I want that.”

Lucas speaks up, “Orgasmic _and_ well-spoken.”

I grin, “You know, I’m the whole package.” My chuckles are effectively cut off when Bellamy hooks his hands under my arms to pick me up, then impales me on his hard cock without warning, and _,_ _“Ohhh_ , that feels so fucking good.” I can practically _hear_ the smug smirk on his face. He hooks my knees outside of his and spreads me wide open with them while he guides my arms above me to drape over his neck. I lean against Bellamy as he starts moving inside of me. Our position makes it difficult to do any thrusting, but I swear he’s moving inside of me with a skill all his own. I’m way too blissed-out to consider the logistics any further when I feel the softest, most gentle tongue caress the delicate flesh of my cunt. Her warm breaths fan my pussy while her tongue explores me slowly and carefully. Bellamy’s hands come around to play with my tits and my entire body is in a state of rapture as she and Bellamy work together to bring me to the edge.

Through hazy eyes, I see Lucas enter Talia from behind, which she appreciates _loudly_ against my pussy. The image is incredibly erotic and beautiful: Talia being fucked from behind while she looks up at me with her mesmerizing eyes and her tongue flicking at my throbbing clit – it’s an image that does sinful things to my body. I’m startled in the best possible way when Mandy comes to my side and starts teasing my breasts, then drawing my extremely sensitive nipple into her warm mouth. Bellamy deftly pleasures my other nipple with his talented hands, whispering all sorts of dirty things in my ear about how hot this is, how he can’t wait for me to come around him... My senses are overwhelmed with so many avenues of pleasure that I think I might lose my fucking mind soon. I hear Mag’s voice as he makes a sound that can be described only as _satisfied_ as he slides into Mandy. I bite my lip, trying to stifle the aroused moan threatening to escape me when Mandy’s face transforms into the embodiment of indulgence. This is absolutely surreal…

I cry out, “Oh, god this is- it’s-” Again, words fail me…

I hear Bellamy’s voice surround me, “You feeling good, Princess?”

A desperate whine escapes me, “Y-yeah, s-ssooo _good_.”

Mandy releases a nipple with a “pop” sound and announces, “Wow, guys. It sounds like she’s gonna come, already.”

My face scrunches up, “g- _GOD_ , yes… _Please! I-“_

Bellamy shakes his head behind me, “Princess, you’d be disappointed if we let you come right now. We’re gonna draw this out for a while…”

A full-body shiver shoots through me with his words. All I can say is, “ _Fuck…”_

Bellamy warns, “Talia, she’s not allowed to come yet.” He speaks to me again, “And Princess, don’t even _try_ and have any of your little covert mini-orgasms, because I’ll know. There’s no way you can hide your pleasure from me…” His words incite excited mewls from me, and he just keeps going… “Your delectable, _exquisite_ cunt is wrapped all around me, and it will betray any attempt to hide an orgasm. You know that don’t you?”

I nod, “Y-yes, Sir.”

He laughs wickedly, “And you wanna come _bad_ , don’t you.”

I shake my head, “Yes… but don’t let me c-come yet… Y-you’re right, this feels too good to s-stop.”

Mandy rakes her fingernails along my abdomen while she bites down on a nipple, and _that_ threatens to send me over the edge. I dig my fingernails into Bellamy’s neck in frustration.   “Oh, _god_ , it’s too much! Please!”

Bellamy calmly gives orders (a tactic which absolutely does _not_ help my state of helpless arousal)… “Talia, Mandy, go ahead and let up a little bit. Let’s give the Princess a breather. Talia, suck and nibble on her outer lips. That’ll keep her all worked up without being too cruel… Her clit is _extremely_ responsive.” All the while, his cock is still firmly inside of me, stimulating me brilliantly.

I give him a tired smile and a breathless, “ _Thank you_.”  

He directs his words to Mandy next, “Mandy, she’s _really_ sensitive and predisposed to nipple orgasms, especially after she wore the nipple chains for so long tonight. So, while we’re letting her simmer down, just gently caress her tits like this.” I feel him demonstrating for her on one of my breasts how he wants her to just lightly wisp her fingertips around each heavy globe of flesh. I’m afraid to open my eyes, because I’m somewhat certain it’ll be too much for me to handle to actually _see_ them playing with me like this. It’s one thing to imagine the indecent things happening to my body. It’s another thing altogether to see it happening…

Bellamy whispers dirty plans in my ear, “Does it feel good to have Talia’s tongue playing with your pussy?”

I nod furiously.

“Nuh, uh, uh… Use your words like a dirty little slut.”

I gasp, “ _God_ , yes, it feels good. _So_ good.”

I can feel him smile on my shoulder, “When I tell her to, Talia’s gonna fuck your clit with her tongue again, Princess. Would you like that?”

I nod with a sob I couldn’t suppress, “I w-would.” He rakes his fingertips along my torso, and Mandy follows suit. My arms are still holding onto Bellamy’s neck behind me for dear life as I’m carried away on this hedonistic runaway train. It’s all I can do to just hold on for the ride while he continues to move gently within me, giving me just enough stimulation to keep me on the edge, keep me from coming all the way down, but not enough to grant me an orgasm…

Lucas’s voice surprises me as he addresses Bellamy, “B, is Talia satisfying your sub well?”

Bellamy asks, “Is she, Princess?”

I groan shamelessly as Talia gets back to work with her tongue, licking and massaging my pussy, “Oh my _god_ , she’s so good…” I hear Lucas praise Talia for her efforts while Bellamy’s continues working on me with his profane words.  

Bellamy chuckles, “I told you she was good, didn’t I, Princess?”

I nod, “Yeah, you told me. You’re right, Sir.”

Bellamy’s voice is beginning to sound almost _strangled_ as my orgasm builds again. “Fuck, Princess. I want to fuck you so hard.” I grin, biting my lower lip as Bellamy keeps saying deplorable things in my ear, “I wanna fuck you, but I want to see you come on Talia’s tongue. And I wanna feel you around my cock when you come. Can you come hard for me when I tell you to?”

I feel my brows furrow, my eyes squeezed shut, trying to make sense of the sheer amount of sensuality surrounding me. ” _God_ , yes. Please, _please_ keep talking.”

Bellamy groans, “Princess, your cunt is glistening! I can hear how wet you are all the way up here – you’re fucking dripping.” Bellamy is pinching my nipple while Mandy is gently sucking on my other nipple. The warring sensations of treatments make my head spin.

“Oh, god it feels so fucking _good_ , Sir.”

He shakes his head and laughs, “Fuck, if you could see yourself right now… You’re such a little _slut_ , aren’t you?”

I cry out, “God yes, I am! I’m _your_ slut, Sir.”

His voice is hoarse as he asks, “Yes, you are. And does my little slut wanna come?”

I’m fairly certain my voice has reached to the level of a shriek now, “ _Please! Let me c-come!”_

Bellamy directs Talia, “When I give her permission to come, you should do that thing you taught me. Where you suck on her clit and use your tongue to play with it.”

I always wondered where Bellamy learned to do that, and now I know that I can thank Talia for that little trick… I don’t know what to say, so I just cry out in agreement.

Lucas pipes up, “I’d bet anything that B wants his balls played with.”

I groan, unashamed of the desperation in my voice. I reach down with a hand but I can’t get to them from my current position. I hear my own vexation, “I can’t reach!”

Lucas suggests a solution, “Can Talia do it?”

I nod fervently, “Yes! Talia! You have to do it for me, I can’t reach from here.”

I hear Bellamy groaning behind me, his deep voice reverberating through his chest and sending vibrations throughout my entire body. Then I feel his body jerk as he makes heaving grunting sounds, so I know Talia is doing what I asked. Bellamy’s grip on my waist becomes almost painful as he’s consumed by pleasure. “You’re doing a good job, Talia, I can tell…” I shriek as Bellamy’s fingernails dig into me. “Yes, _that’s_ it Talia… That’s good... You’re a good girl…”

Bellamy makes a choked sound behind me, “Goddammit that’s so fucking hot.”

“What is?”

He nips at my neck some more, “When you call her a good girl.”

I moan in delight, the ball and power coming into my figurative court. “Did you hear that, Talia? It’s hot when I tell you what a good girl you are. And you are… you’re good… such a good girl.”

I hear the slap of Lucas’s thighs against Talia’s ass speed up as he agrees, “Fuck, yes she is. That’s my girl.”

Talia growls in delight, and holy _shit_ that feels nice. It’s not like the deep full-body vibrations achieved when Bellamy growls against my clit, but it’s _something_.

As I get closer and closer to the edge, I think Bellamy’s reaching the end of his rope. His thrusts are becoming more erratic and his groans are more _wanting_ in quality.   “Princess, I need you to come now.”

I nod, “ _G-god_ yes! I wanna come for you, Sir.”

Doing just as she was told, Talia sucks my clit into her delicate mouth, soothing it with her delicate tongue, while Bellamy fucks my pussy. Just when I think I can’t feel any better than this, Mandy comes back over to my side and bites _hard_ on my breast.

I feel Bellamy’s harsh breaths on the side of my neck when he wraps his arms around my chest, squeezing me so tightly it’s hard to breathe. “Fucking come, Princess. Come on my cock, now!”

 _That’s_ what does me in. The simple bite combined with Bellamy’s profane orders send waves of ecstasy tearing through my body. I swear I’m fucking _levitating_ as the pleasure roils through me. Bellamy’s voice is nearly _shouting_ vulgarities while his hot cum erupts out of his cock and reaches the deepest parts of me as he succumbs to his own orgasm. I fall limp into his chest as he finally slackens his grip around my ribcage.

Oh… my… god…

Bellamy’s low and graveled voice is heaving but resolute, “Princess, we’re just getting started...”  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FIRST AND MOST IMPORTANT THING: **KINK PSA** **FOR FUCK'S SAKE, DO NOT UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES ATTEMPT SUSPENSION BONDAGE. PLEASE! ** It's a form of bondage that should not be attempted by anyone but VERY experienced riggers. I purposely did NOT list any of the actual knots used, because I don't want to be responsible for some kid attempting to recreate the knots on their loved one and putting them in the hospital (or cemetery). I stuck to generalized safety rules and concepts. 
> 
> We're looking at at least one more chapter to wrap up the party. I kind of suspected it would play out like this (lots and lots of play party chapters), but there's oh-so-much going on! I appreciate you guys sticking with it, and your feedback has been immensely helpful. 
> 
> On that note, REVIEWS are like my crack. When you take a minute to leave one, it does wonders for my motivation and productivity ~
> 
> Also, if you haven't left KUDOS, those also make me ridiculously happy! 
> 
> *Note* I'm going to be absurdly busy for the next two-ish weeks because we're moving to a new house! I'm super excited about it, but it's a time-consuming process. So, updates may be less frequent. It depends on whether I decide to procrastinate... Because there's nothing I love more than putting off things that NEED to be done in favor of things I WANT to do. So, we'll see. 
> 
> Last, but not least, THANK YOU ALL for reading this monster of a fic! 
> 
> [And again, NO AMATEUR SUSPENSION BONDAGE!!!]


	43. can't say the same for the wall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bellamy and Clarke love an orgy... 
> 
> (Bellamy POV)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Wow! Getting close to 900 KUDOS!!! So awesome!!!]
> 
> First of all, I want to thank my WONDERFUL readers, whose comments and encouragements have made it such a pleasure to write this. When I started this fic, I wasn't sure what to expect out of it. I don't have formal writing training beyond a general college English class. In fact, the only things I'd written before this were research papers in school (looking back, I've written hundreds of those), all in the context of academia... Writing fiction and writing for pleasure are new concepts for me. So far, it's been awesome, and I have you guys to thank for that. 
> 
> I'd never published writings online before, and it was truly daunting to take on a task like this. This fic has turned into a project truly close to my heart, giving readers a glimpse into a more reality-based, healthy (NON-abusive) BDSM relationship with an appreciation for informed consent. It was an idea I had in mind for a while, and the Bellamy/Clarke dynamic was the perfect avenue.
> 
> So, THANK YOU ALL for being so awesome and making this so enjoyable. 
> 
> Also, I feel compelled to mention: orgies are NOT a staple of BDSM play/kink parties! (Or even BDSM in general). It is a kinky activity, and the decision to partake is a personal one made by each individual.  
> In reality, there is like, NO penetrative sex in public play spaces (at least the ones I've been to). Many clubs prohibit it (and sometimes the law does, too - since it could be considered public sex, depending on the venue). There are orgasms in play, but they're in a scene context. And a public party is SO not the place for an orgy. Lucas's play party is PRIVATE, attended by close friends, and you'll notice the group sex was independently negotiated OUTSIDE of the play-party context. There was no "Hey everyone! Pan-sexual free-for-all upstairs!" announcement. And they still go through limits and stuff because that's important. In their pre-orgy briefing, they all made it explicitly clear that it was about sex and pleasure. [That last part that was a copy/paste of my response to a good comment last chapter].
> 
> **TRIGGER WARNINGS**  
> \- KINK PARTY. EXPECT KINK...  
> \- This chapter gets sexually graphic... (It _is_ an orgy, guys). You're welcome ;-)  
>  \- oh, and there's some anal play (sorry not sorry)

 

This entire night has been fucking unbelievable. No, _Clarke_ has been unbelievable. She’s been so incredibly open to everything. The suspension was beautiful, and the ending to it was… surprising. I've gotta hand it to her – her strength and flexibility is impressive.

Sitting through the limits discussion with the six of us was fucking torture. Something about discussing limits builds up enormous amounts of tension and opens up the mind to all kinds of possibilities. Watching Clarke blush when Mandy said she’d like to “taste” her was almost comical. We’re talking about a woman who just asked me point-blank if I would consider getting fucked in the ass while I was fucking her. But ask her about eating another girl out, and she blushes something fierce. But she’s into it. Like, really into it. Much to everyone's delight, Talia announces that she wants to eat Clarke out. Repeatedly. I almost bust a nut when she says she wants me to fuck Clarke while she does it. After everyone verbally illustrates some particularly raunchy requests, I’m pretty fucking sure my brain is about to melt. I look at Clarke, and she’s not doing much better with her self-control. Glancing at our playmates, _nobody_ is able to wait any longer…

And just like that, everything falls into place. I know Clarke is definitely into watching, so I turn her around to watch Luc, Talia, Mandy, and Mag engage in a relatively uncomplicated foursome. I hear Clarke’s breath hitch when Mandy spreads Talia open, so I snake my hand in front of her to explore her folds. I get a fantastic reaction out of her when I start mirroring Mandy’s tongue movements with my fingers, and when Mag starts fucking Mandy from behind, I follow suit. The effect on Clarke is immediate – she releases licentious groans that quickly attract the attention of our playmates, but she’s completely oblivious to them once I’m really fucking her.

Clarke puts on a lovely display when she's begging to come… I get inordinate pleasure out of making her beg, and thank fuck, she gets off on it, too. I call her first attempt “pathetic” and her cunt clenches so tight around me that I have to close my eyes to concentrate on not blowing my load right there. When I give her permission to come, it takes enormous effort not to come undone with her as her cunt spasms around my cock. The night is too young and we’re just getting started. I can hold out longer…

Everyone watches with fascination as Clarke succumbs to orgasm, but Magus, in particular, is very vocal in his praise. It’s not like we need his approval in any way, but compliments of any kind are high praise coming from him. He’s one of those people who probably really _has_ seen it all. When he says he has “virtually no limits,” that’s the fucking truth. I’ve heard of him taking part in some really edgy shit. For instance, not long ago, he had someone drink his blood straight out of an IV. He’s a fan of urethral sounding, which is basically when rods are inserted into a guy’s dick and fucked around with. He does frequent torture interrogation scenes, and regularly involves himself in fantasy rape play. He’s basically down to give and/or receive just about anything you can throw at him. Despite his nearly nonexistent limits, never once have I heard of him disrespecting anyone’s boundaries, so I feel comfortable enough with him here. Otherwise I would’ve asked Mandy not to bring him.

Clarke has her post-climax sloshed look on her face when Mag calls her “absolutely orgasmic.” She retorts that he hasn’t seen anything yet, and I’d have to agree. When Clarke is into something, she's _into_ it. I’d say that precedent goes double for tonight, because her engagement right now is extraordinary.

Talia comes sauntering over, easing Clarke into her first group experience. She points at the satin-covered floor and directs us to go over and wait for her. Talia has a wide, _wide_ submissive streak, but she sure orders people around like a Domme sometimes. I asked her once if she ever considered herself to be a switch or Domme, and she laughed in my face. (“Fuck no! I need to be ordered around when I’m being fucked and played with. That’s the only way I really enjoy it.”) But behind the scenes? She’s like a traffic controller – what she says goes. She sets the parameters, then gets into character.

So, Clarke and I get settled on the satin-covered floor, which she calls a “sex cove.” I don’t know if she realizes that she said it out loud, but it’s an apt description and gets a laugh out of me when I hear it. I sit behind her and reach around her front to play with her pussy, swollen and wet with her nectar. She's relaxed like putty in my hands. When Talia asks me to fuck Clarke while she eats her out, Clarke, whose speech has been mostly slurred for the past few minutes, loudly agrees (much to everyone’s delight).

I pick Clarke up and drop her down on my cock, and I’m in a sensual paradise. I spread her wide open for Talia, then I start moving inside of her. Talia has this look on her face when she’s eyeing Clarke – like she’s stalking prey, and when Talia talks, Clarke _responds._ Talia builds up the anticipation, complimenting Clarke’s pussy… telling her how good she looks, how bad she wants to taste her. She has Clarke writhing with just her words. When Talia starts working her magic on Clarke’s pussy, I know she’s in for a treat.

Here’s the thing: Talia is the one who _taught_ me how to really eat pussy. The lessons were… intimate, but it was years ago, before she and Luc were involved. She wasn’t my sub and we’ve never been in a relationship. We’ve been in a lot of shared play scenes, so we’ve fucked before in that context, but it’s never been a thing between us. The “lessons” occurred after I ate her out during an orgy, and the woman had multiple tips and corrections (“You’ve got potential, B. But you can do better.”). So we made a day of it once a few years ago, and I’ve never been more grateful for someone’s nit-picky instruction. Judging by Clarke’s reactions in bed over the course of these past few months, Talia taught me well.

Mandy joins in, taking up a place at Clarke’s side so she can play with Clarke’s tits. Mandy is a “boob girl” and she’s been eyeing Clarke’s assets since we arrived upstairs. Actually, she’s been fixated on them probably since we were on the floor. Mandy is another playmate I’ve never been in any relationship with, but we’ve fucked in the context of shared play. I come to the realization that I’ve fucked every person in this room except Lucas. Well, no, we’ve sucked each other’s dicks. So if we’re counting oral, I’ve fucked and been fucked by every person here. That’s a strange awareness to have… But, it’s probably why I’m comfortable enough around them to give them orders on how to best take care of Clarke.

I take a moment to think that maybe a normal person would probably be highly uncomfortable in this situation. But, I think it’s been established that both Clarke and I are far from “normal” when it comes to this shit. Clarke is aware of my previous encounters with the girls. She knows I’d been involved in threesomes or foursomes with Talia and Mandy at one time or another, and she said early on she didn’t have a problem with it. We weren’t ever in relationships and as Clarke had put it, “You were basically just live-action sex toys for each other.” It was a fitting description.

Until tonight, she didn’t really know the extent of my group sex experience. I’d told her about threesomes and foursomes (What can I say? The woman loves when I tell her raunchy stories.). But I hadn’t really gone into detail before on the larger group sex encounters I’ve had. I told her about Luc and Mag today, and thank god she’s okay with it. No, she’s more than _okay_ with it. She wants to take it a step farther…

Back to the pleasure at hand… With all of our stimulation hitting Clarke _just right_ , she’s quickly unraveling at the seams. I want to prolong her pleasure, so I have the girls dial it back a little to give Clarke a break. I caress her body with my fingertips, showing Mandy how to do the same. Clarke’s nipples are obscenely sensitive right now, and Mandy knows how to skillfully draw someone into a nipple orgasm. But, I’m serious about drawing this out for Clarke, not because I’m trying to be cruel, but because she’s in a world of pleasure right now, and I want to do everything I can to extend it. I feel a sense of vindication when she requests that I _not_ let her come because it feels too good to stop.

The fact that she defers to me for her pleasure is absolutely invigorating.

Lucas asks me if Talia is pleasing Clarke, who replies furiously in the affirmative. I get off big time on making Clarke talk dirty and she gets a huge thrill out of being forced into slutty behavior. I almost want to laugh when Lucas suggests that I want my balls fondled. It hadn’t occurred to me until he said it, but now that he mentions it, yeah, that would feel incredible. Clarke tries her hardest to reach down there, and I give props for her valiant efforts, but she’d have to be fucking inspector gadget to maneuver her arms that way right now. I would like to say I’m surprised when she asks Talia to do it, but I’ve come to the conclusion that I should expect just about anything from Clarke tonight. Talia gleefully does as asked. I say “gleefully” because the woman _loves_ being ordered around. She’d get a thrill out of being told to lick someone’s boot (That’s not an exaggeration – I’ve seen it).

When Clarke tells Talia that she’s a “Good girl” I nearly lose my shit. I never thought about how incredibly hot it would be to hear Clarke say something so _Dominant_. I can see a glimpse of Clarke as a Domme and it definitely throws me off. In a good way. I tell her how fucking hot it is when she says it and she just runs with it, telling Talia just how good a girl she is…

I know Clarke’s submissive streak isn’t going anywhere, and I doubt that she’d be comfortable as a full-on “Switch” (let alone as a Domme), but now I wonder if she’d like to get just a _taste_ of control. I just have to consider whether I’m comfortable handing my control over. To anyone else, the answer would be a hard “No,” but with Clarke, I trust her with anything. I table those thoughts for now to return my attention back to the _incredibly_ hot scene around me.

Clarke’s “Good Girl” thing threatens to undo me fast, so I tell Clarke to come with me. My arms are trapping Clarke in a vice-like grip, and I hope she can breathe, but it’s all I can do to hold off my own orgasm until Clarke gets to the edge. Talia and Mandy are like mind-readers and instantly fall into line. They touch Clarke with perfection so that, within seconds, she’s coming on my cock with such ferocity I nearly black out as I follow behind her.  

As we both recoup our energies, Clarke and I are in a daze. I readjust Clarke to a more comfortable position, and in the corner of my eye, I see that Mandy has left a hickey on the side of Clarke’s breast. Upon viewing the offending mark, I feel a twinge of possessiveness. No… “Twinge” is an understatement. It’s more like a seismic wave of territorial instinct. Technically, I didn’t clarify earlier that nobody could leave marks, and I’m certain Mandy’s was unintentional. But still, it provokes an obnoxious possessive response inside of me… While Clarke is limp in my arms, wrecked from her orgasm, I find myself running my fingers over the mark, irrationally bothered by the darkened skin, marred flesh that _I_ didn’t cause.

I feel Clarke’s fingers touch mine as she asks, “Are you trying to dig a hole in my tits?” I still my hand and clear my throat. Clarke looks down where my fingers are, then crushes the flesh of her breast as she tries see what I’m stroking (or as she puts it, “digging” into). She swats my fingers away and laughs, “oh, for fuck’s sake…” She chuckles again, “Well, I can tell you that you’re not going to make it any better by scraping a hole there.”

I huff in irritation, “Fair enough.”

Clarke’s voice is teasing, “Aww, did someone infringe on your territory?” I raise an eyebrow and In a matter of seconds, I’ve flipped us so that she’s underneath me. The dark look in her eyes incites a flood of possessive thoughts... I hear myself _growl_ as I descend on that spot to bite down on it. Mandy may have started it, but I sure as hell am going to finish it. Clarke gasps and tangles her hands in my hair as I bite down over Mandy’s small mark. I take a generous amount of flesh between my teeth, gnawing on it briefly before I suck powerfully, abrading it roughly with my tongue. I’m momentarily concerned that I’m hurting Clarke so I loosen my bite slightly. But then she tightens her fingers in my hair and crushes my face to her chest to prevent me from pulling away.  

Her voice is erotic and raspy, “I’m yours, Bellamy… Make sure they fucking know it.” As if my possessive streak needed any encouragement… My mood effectively lifted, I chuckle against her skin as I finish what I started. When I pull away, my cock twitches at the vibrant red color as it contrasts with Clarke’s creamy skin.

Clarke grins, “Better?”

I huff, “Much.” I smirk and dip my head down and she meets me in a smoldering kiss. I pull back and we both grin at the wolf-whistles coming from behind us.

Clarke smirks, “Shall we go see what we’re missing out on?”

I nod and rise off of her, pulling her up with me. Clarke rises to her feet, then takes me by the hand with a gentle smile on her face. We walk over to join our friends, who have been busy without us – Mandy has her hands around Magnus’s cock, gently tugging and teasing it. Clarke leans against the wall, motioning for me to stand next to her while we watch Talia and Lucas. Talia is on her knees with a white-knuckled grip on Luc’s thighs while he vigorously fucks her face. His face is a picture of bliss as he tangles his fingers in Talia’s dark hair to hold her head still while he vigorously thrusts his cock into her mouth. Clarke whispers to no one in particular, “That’s so fucking hot.”

This would be one of those spit-takes if I were drinking something. It’s yet another statement I never expected to hear out of Clarke. She chuckles at my shocked expression and asks, “Is that something you wanna do?” I swallow thickly as I replay her words in my head, unsure that I’ve heard the right thing. She brings her lips to the shell of my ear and asks in a sultry tone, “Do you want to fuck my face?” She brings her finger to my chin and closes my mouth, which is apparently hanging open. Clarke smirks, “I’ll take that as yes.”

I nod and clear my throat, “Fuck, yes.”

Clarke chuckles, “I’ll keep that in mind.” I close my eyes as she wraps her hand around my cock, which is already hardening again. She lays open-mouth kisses on my chest while her hands deftly stroke me to full mast. “Bellamy?”

“Hmm?”

“Can I watch Lucas suck your cock? It’s gorgeous, and it’s hard, and I wanna see it.” I pull her hand away to prevent things from ending before they start. I pull her in for a kiss and she wraps her arms around my back. “Is that a yes?”

I chuckle, “Let’s let him finish first.”

Clarke smiles and nips at my sternum with a nod. I turn Clarke around in my arms so her back is to my chest. I reach in front of her and slip my fingers into her folds while she watches Talia’s face being fucked by Lucas, and _holy shit_ she’s wet. She’s not kidding – she is really fucking turned on by this. I make a mental note of it as I plunge two fingers into her dripping pussy. She leans back against my chest and I nip at her shoulder. I’m not giving her enough to bring her to orgasm, just enough to keep her wet and wanting.

Lucas finishes off in Talia’s mouth before pulling her face away. She wipes her lips with the back of her hand and looks thoroughly intoxicated. Luc smooths her hair back out of her face and tells her she was a good girl… that he loves fucking her beautiful face… that her mouth is perfect. Talia wears a contented expression and nods with a “Thank you, Sir.”

My fingers are still plunged into Clarke’s cunt and she is practically gushing with arousal as she watches the exchange between Luc and Talia. She twists her head to whisper in my ear again, “Yeah, I think I really want you to fuck my face. Not tonight. But soon.”

I drop my head to her shoulder, cursing under my breath, “Jesus fucking christ, Clarke…”

We give Luc and Talia some time to cool off and recover. In the meantime, Mandy has made her way over to Clarke and brings her hands to frame Clarke’s face. She pulls her in and captures Clarke's lips in a delicate, but very tongue-involved kiss. I take a moment to appreciate that Clarke is tangling tongues with another woman right under my chin... Mandy’s hands are eagerly exploring Clarke’s tits (not a surprise… she’s clearly a little obsessed with them and I don’t blame her _at all)_ , and she looks like she is contemplating whether she wants to suck on them again. Just as she starts to make her way down Clarke’s jaw, I gently grip Mandy’s chin so she looks at me.

“Mandy…” My voice is a warning as I shake my head admonishingly, “No. More. Marks.”

Mandy nods with a gentle smile, knowing exactly what I'm referring to. “My apologies, B… It wasn’t intentional.”

I release her chin, “Don’t let it happen again.”

Clarke shivers and turns her head to whisper to me, “Oh my god, I’m so fucking turned on right now…”

I whisper in her ear, “You’re mine. Don’t forget it.”

She shakes her head and whimpers, “Never…” She and Talia lock gazes and Clarke cocks her head to summon her over. Talia comes up to Clarke and takes a position next to Mandy, then immediately starts nibbling at Clarke’s earlobes. Clarke gasps, clearly in paradise while she’s being indulged by three people. My fingers are in her cunt, Mandy is fondling and licking at her tits, and Talia’s mouth is all over her neck. Again, this shit is all happening _right under_ my chin. If I wasn’t rock hard already, this would certainly do it…

I hear Clarke whisper to Talia, “I wanna see Luc suck B's cock…”

Talia smirks and looks up at me before returning her gaze to Clarke, “I’ll bring him over.” Talia ambles over to Luc and whispers in his ear. He looks over at me while she’s talking and he nods his head before they both walk back over. Pleasantries are skipped as Clarke and the ladies step out of the way and Lucas wastes no time taking my cock in his hand to stroke it gently. He turns us so that his back is to the wall and I’m facing it. He smirks and whispers something to Clarke, who nods with a ravenous grin as she whispers something back. I raise my eyebrow in question.

“Baby, Lucas was asking me if it’s okay if he puts his mouth on you.”

I huff, “And what did you tell him?”

She smirks as Luc drops to his knees in front of me, “I said ‘Please.’”  She sides up to me and speaks softly, “I want to see this so badly.” I nod with a shiver as she licks gentle patterns on the side of my neck.

And with that I feel Luc slowly slide his tongue along the underside of my cock from the tip to the base, then back up again a few times. Then, I can’t fight back the brazen groan that escapes me when Lucas gently sucks my balls into his warm mouth, one at a time.

Still standing at my side, Clarke actually growls. That’s it. Just fucking _growls_. She punctuates her vocalizations with a harsh dig of her fingernails into my forearm. After a while, she tells me breathlessly, “That’s so fucking hot, babe… Do you like it when he plays with your balls in his mouth like that?”

Certain that my voice will betray my current state of helplessness, I just nod. Clarke smirks, “I can tell you like it a lot.” She breathes in my ear while her fingernails still trail up and down the insides of my arm, “Do you want me to suck on you like that next time my mouth is on your cock?”

I groan, “FUCK yes…”

I release a shuddering gasp when I feel Luc’s warm mouth envelop me. I lean forward to support myself with my forearm against the wall in front of me. Clarke steps back for a better view, her pupils so wide I can barely see her irises. Her jaw drops open and she licks her lips. A loud groan escapes me when I see her finger herself where she’s standing. Mandy comes behind her and gently fondles Clarke’s tits while she presses gentle kisses to the side of her neck. She’s somewhat taller than Clarke, so Clarke is able to lean back against Mandy’s shoulder while she gets herself off. Fuck, watching them is making it hard to last… Clarke’s eyes widen as Magnus comes up behind me. He nods at Clarke to come over, says he has a question for us. Clarke detaches from Mandy, clearly already mourning her absence, and walks back to my side. Her eyes are repeatedly drawn to Lucas’s head, currently taking the full length of my cock in his mouth.

“You summoned?” Clarke asks. It’s hard to tell if she’s being sarcastic, mainly because my mental faculties are currently weakened by pleasure.

Magnus’s voice is behind me. “I’d like to do something I know B likes. Would it bother you if I... gave it to him?”

Clarke gives him a sidelong glance, “Can you be a little more specific?” I huff a proud laugh at her discernment.

“Have you ever given him prostate massage while sucking his cock?”

Clarke’s eyes widen almost comically as she shakes her head. “I haven’t.” She looks over at me, “Is that something you’d like, babe?”

I can only shudder as I nod and quietly curse in disbelief, “Jesus…” It’s not that I’m averted to ass play by any means. But I’ve been easing Clarke into it, and considering it took months for her to get comfortable with receiving it, I didn’t want to rush her into giving it… But it appears she’s a curious, if not eager pupil.

She nods with a smile and looks up at Magnus, “Can you show me what you do, then?” Mag looks down at me, waiting for the specific go-ahead, so I nod in assent. My mind is still in a white haze of pleasure with Lucas sucking me off like a goddamn pro. I lean my forehead against my forearm, entranced by the view of my cock disappearing into Luc's mouth.

Magnus speaks to Clarke while directing his attentions to me. “I’d start by massaging his glutes, you know, to relax him.” I feel strong fingers deftly kneading my gluteal muscles. He continues, “Then work his cheeks open like this.” I feel my ass cheeks being spread, and I feel suddenly very… exposed. I’ve had this done a hundred times before, and it’s never been something that made me uncomfortable (not after the first few times, anyway). But right now? I feel incredibly vulnerable.

Clarke must sense it because I feel her rest her hand on my shoulder. I look over at her and she has concern written on her face. Luc has stopped moving, and I glance down to see that Clarke has gently pressed her fingertips to his forehead. His mouth is still wrapped around my cock, but he remains still, seemingly awaiting Clarke’s permission to continue. She speaks gently to me, “Do you want Mag to stop? Because if you don’t want this, that’s okay.”

It’s hard to form sentences when my mind is blissed out like this, but I manage, “It doesn’t bother you?”

Clarke frowns, “Me? No.” She shakes her head, “Why would it bother me?”

“Like I mentioned before, the guy-guy thing is… different. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

She smiles, “Does it feel good?”

I huff a nervous laugh, “Yeah, it feels good.”

She gives me a sultry grin, “That’s hot. If you’re feeling good, I’m feeling good. Okay?”

I nod and she rises to her tiptoes, cupping my face with her free hand and gently kissing my lips… She whispers, “Now can I let them get back to it? Because I really, _really_ want to see them get you off…” I nod again with a smirk and I see Clarke lift her hand from Luc’s forehead as she gives him a nod to continue. And _fuck_ he does. “Can Mag keep showing me how to do what he does?”

I nod furiously, “Fuck, yes.”                                              

I hear Mag ask, “You good, man?”

I answer back and I can hear the grin in my voice, “Yeah, I’m good. Clarke’s a quick learner… tell her there’s gonna be a pop quiz later.” This gets a laugh out of everyone. 

Mag continues, “So, like I was saying. Massage his glutes, because it’s better if he’s relaxed. An alternative is for him to recline, like on the bed or the couch. That way he just has to lay back and not keep himself standing up, which gets increasingly difficult as the pleasure gets more and more powerful.”

I look to the side and I can’t fight the grin on my face when I see Clarke’s serious expression as she listens to Mag, like she’s taking notes in her head. Leave it to Clarke to be straight-up academic about sex… But like, hot-academic. Sexy-librarian hot… I can imagine it: Clarke in some tight pencil skirt and button-down dress shirt, some glasses that sit just perfectly on her face. Then she’d start unbuttoning that top, then turn to the side to reveal a naughty slit up the side of her skirt… I shake my head because _shit_ , that visual is not helping my stamina. I snap back to reality again, where Clarke is eagerly learning this new skill. I wasn’t kidding about the pop-quiz. In fact, I’m _very much_ looking forward to it.

Mag resumes “So once you’ve got him relaxed, you want to lube up your finger, because it’s fragile inside. Are you familiar with basic human anatomy?”

I snort a laugh as Clarke grins and answers, “I’m a doctor. So yeah, you could say I’m familiar.”

Magnus smirks, “Of course B has nabbed a doctor…” He addresses me, “You’d better lock this down, B.”

I chuckle, “Don’t I know it.”

Clarke laughs with us before directing Mag’s attention back to the topic at hand. “So you were saying…?”

Mag continues, “Ah, yes. So, you want to make sure to use lube because you’re going to be inserting a finger through his anus to massage the prostate gland. You know where it’s located?”

Clarke nods, “A few inches up inside the rectum, on the anterior rectal wall.”

Magnus laughs, “Spoken like a doctor… about two inches in, toward the front, like toward his dick, not his back.”

Clarke gives him a blank look, “Um, yeah, that’s what just I said.” 

I’m getting closer and closer to the edge thanks to Luc’s impeccable blowjob skills. I grunt at him, “Let up for a sec or I’m gonna blow my load before Mag is done showing Clarke what to do.” And yeah, I’m pretty invested in Clarke learning this now.

Lucas pulls his mouth off with a nod as he wipes his chin with the back of his hand, “I hear you, man.” In the meantime, he wraps his hand around my shaft, just slowly but firmly stroking me.

Clarke asks Mag, “Okay, how about you tell me what to do, and I’ll do it, okay?”

I chuckle at Clarke’s enthusiasm. She looks at me, “Babe, I think I wanna suck your cock while I do this. If that’s okay with you, of course. Do you want my mouth on you?”

I raise an eyebrow, “Clarke, if I ever decline a blowjob from you, please shoot me.”

She smiles and asks Mag, “Should we go to the floor?”

He answers, “Actually the bed would be ideal right now, so I can see what you’re doing without having to crane my neck at the floor.”

She looks over at Luc, “Can we use the bed? I promise to swallow all his come so none of it gets on your sheets.”

Luc laughs with a nod as he releases my dick from his hand, “I’m holding you to that cleanup promise...”

Clarke looks back at me with a sultry expression, “Oh, don’t worry… I won’t spill a drop.” I curse under my breath as I drop my forehead to the top of Clarke’s head. 

She grins, “To the bed!” She takes my hand and I follow her there. She hops up onto the mattress and invites me to sit down next to her. She addresses Magnus, “So what now?”

I lean back against the pillows at the head of the bed so I’m reclining but not flat. I anchor my feet on the mattress so my knees are bent, then I spread my legs so Clarke can situate herself between them and have easy access to the key areas.

Mag tells me, “B, wait until I’m done showing her what to do before you unleash yourself into her.”

I laugh with an eye roll, “I’m not going to ‘unleash myself’ into her.”

Clarke grins at me with a dark look as she settles into a kneeling position between my legs, “I don’t know… you might if I’m doing it right.”

I groan at her words, _“Holy fuck, Clarke.”_

“Now, you want to relax him, _then_ use your finger to tease his opening. Sometime you can try doing it while you play with his balls, maybe even use your tongue to start. Just a thought.” Clarke nods earnestly, and I can see her filing that bit of information for later. Magnus hands her some lube so she can lube her finger. She bends forward so her face hovers over my torso then leaves open-mouth kisses on my abdomen as her hands knead the muscles on my thigh. The effect is instantaneous. I feel myself relax as she trails her mouth along my hipbone and drags her lips across my waistline. She bumps my cock with her cheek a few times before she closes a hand over my shaft and strokes me slowly. I drop my head back against the pillows that are propping me up. She keeps working her hand around my cock, gathering up the precome that gathers there.

I lean back, close my eyes and let myself unwind. The whole ritual of this is immensely relaxing the way Clarke does it. Then, I feel Clarke’s finger graze over my sphincter. The touch sends an electric shock through my body and I release a surprised grunt in response. Clarke chuckles and sounds happy with my reaction. She rubs circles around the tense rosebud, relaxing the tight muscles there. Eventually, she presses into me with gentle pressure, and with a little more relaxation on my part, she’s in. She gasps in unison with my groan as I involuntarily tighten and release a few times around her finger.

Magnus chimes in, “Now that your finger is in there to one knuckle, let him adjust a little bit, then go to the next knuckle.” She continues to slowly stroke my cock as she deepens her finger again, causing my hips to thrust up in reflex. She smiles at me and presses a kiss to the tip of my cock, then swirls her tongue around the tip a few times as pushes in the rest of the way into me. Satisfaction is etched on her face as she observes my responses, most of which are involuntary (and very, very satisfied).

Magnus voices his approval, “Excellent, Doc. There’s no need to push in and out or anything. Your finger is gonna do the work. Since you’re a doctor, you know what you’re looking for with the prostate? It’s about the size and shape of a walnut.”

Clarke nods and her “mmm hmm” is muffled by my cock in her mouth.

Mag grins, “Excellent. You’ll know when you find it.”

Unsurprisingly, within seconds, she’s found it and when she presses into it, I can’t suppress my pleasured shout, _“Holy fucking shit, Clarke…”_

She giggles around my cock, which is another fantastic sensation. She pops off quickly to ask, “So that’s the spot?”

I nod furiously as she lowers her mouth back around my cock. It is impossible to replicate the intense and powerful sensations achieved through prostate massage. It’s called the male G-spot for a reason. I feel Clarke crook her finger and press more firmly against it, which shoots pangs of concentrated pleasure through me. As she presses into that spot again, it feels like I’m about to come _hard_ , but she keeps me on the edge of it. I’m not sure if she realizes how incredibly pleasurable this feels.

She makes a squeaking noise and pulls her mouth off my cock to look at it. A massive grin stretches across her face when she sees that I am oozing precome in unprecedented amounts. She keeps pressing on the spot, “Holy shit, there’s so much! Is more coming out because of… you know… this?”

I nod with a frenzied moan, “ _Fuck!”_ as she pushes a little more firmly against it.

Mag speaks again, “You’ve definitely hit the spot, Doc. Try to press gently into it, then release, then press and release again. See how he likes that.”

Clarke doesn’t take my cock back in her mouth, but instead licks strong patterns around my pelvis and up my abdomen as she follows Mag’s directions. And holy fuck she’s going to be the death of me. A warmth begins to pool in my abdomen and I feel my muscles contracting throughout my pelvis and thighs. Suddenly I feel tremors begin to spread to my legs and the rest of my body…

“Clarke, fuck! I’m gonna-“

She nips at the skin on my thighs then asks, “Oh my god, you’re gonna come? I’m not even-“

Her words are cut off as an explosion of sensations crashes over me and my muscles seize up in a huge tetanic spasm. I hear a surprised shriek from Clarke but that’s the last thought I can spare as waves upon waves of bliss continue to crash over me. I’m _adrift_ in ecstasy…

As I regain coherence, I can hear Clarke murmur things as she drags her tongue all over my abdomen and chest. As I open my eyes, I can see that there’s a purpose to her licking – she’s cleaning up the come that has landed All. Fucking. Over me. She grins against the skin of my neck and licks swirls along my skin while tangling her fingers in my hair to scratch lightly at my scalp. She knows I love it when she does that…

She straddles my waist and smiles as she looks down at me, “Considering you’ve been practically unconscious for the last ten minutes, I’d say I did a good job.”

I tangle a hand in her hair and tug her face down to meet my lips in a bruising kiss. She instantly deepens it, slanting her mouth over mine and licking me deeply… I don’t know how long we devour each other, but when she finally pulls away, her lips are downright swollen.

“Fucking… _fuck_ … Clarke.” I huff a disbelieving laugh. “I mean… _fuck._ ”

Clarke smirks, “Yeah, I kinda did that.” She sighs, clearly proud of herself. And I’d say it’s well-deserved pride, since I’m somewhat certain that my entire body is basically Jell-O right now. “Bell, you came, like, a _lot_ , and I didn’t even touch your cock. It was insane.”

I hear Mag explain to Clarke, “Your man may be out for the rest of tonight.” He’s not wrong…

Clarke sighs with satisfaction, “It’s about time I’m the one who wears him out. Usually it’s the other way around.”

Mag laughs, “You saw how much come there was... He might be spent, that’s all I’m saying.”

Clarke’s groan is practically salacious, “My _god…_ Again, that was fucking insane. Luckily for Lucas, when your come shot over your head it missed the bed completely.” She glances behind me with a smirk, “Can’t say the same for the wall, though.”

I hear Lucas laugh, “Fuck the wall. I don’t have to sleep on the wall tonight. The come missed the sheets, that’s all I care about.”

Clarke nods with feigned dramatics as she agrees, “It was a close call…” She lays a gentle kiss to my temple, “You may be spent for the night, but me and the girls still wanna have some fun.”

I smirk in agreement. Although if I’m being honest, it may look less like I’m “smirking” and more like an “open-mouthed idiot.”

That seems to be the cue for the ladies to join in. Clarke smiles and tells me, “Relax, babe.”

Talia grins as she pushes Clarke into the mattress, her lithe body hovering over Clarke’s, “We’ll take good care of her.”

Mandy rubs her hands over Talia’s ass and up her back as she tells me, “Sit back and enjoy the show, B.”

Talia makes her way down Clarke’s body, licking her in long lines on the way. Mandy chimes in, “No marks, Talia. B won’t like that.”

Clarke huffs a laugh and grins at me, “Or he’ll just take it upon himself to make them bigger.” I have a strong feeling I’m not gonna live that down...

Talia sits up and tells Clarke, “I wanna see you tongue-fuck Mandy… Will you do that?”

Clarke nods, looking nearly innocent as she bites her lower lip and gazes at Mandy through hooded eyes. She rolls Mandy onto her back and immediately starts tonguing and tweaking Mandy’s tits before she moves down her body. I nearly lose my shit when I see her tongue spear Mandy’s pussy. The woman wasn’t kidding when she said she was experienced with cunnilingus. I get a thrill when Clarke looks up at me as she uses my techniques on Mandy, like licking deep into her cunt while she holds Mandy’s her slit open with her fingers. Mandy comes undone within mere minutes of Clarke’s ministrations while Talia gazes hungrily on.  

In college, I had many a fantasy involving Clarke fucking another woman, and I know now that my feeble imagination had nothing on the real thing. I don’t think I’ve ever been more turned on by girl-on-girl fucking as I am right now, and I’m pretty sure it’s all because of Clarke. Sure, lesbian porn is hot. And I’ve even been in orgies before where I’ve watched similar shit. But _Clarke_ being part of it? It’s fucking mind-blowing.

As Mandy recovers from her Clarke-provided orgasm, Talia asks, “Ladies?”

Clarke pulls her head up, “Hmm?”

“I want to see you two fuck each other with a double-dildo.”

Clarke gasps and shoots me a sultry look. I give her a dumbfounded nod and she looks back at Talia with an excited grin.

Talia asks her partner, “Luc, can you give us the 17-inch blue one?” He nods and goes to the closet to fetch it, along with a few other dildos and a Hitachi Magic Wand, which he plugs into an extension cord. Talia excitedly grasps the double-ender and directs Clarke and Mandy to face each other. “Alright, now you guys don’t wanna take this in dry, so how about you get it all slicked up for yourselves?”

Clarke nods and shoots me a sultry smile before she brings her mouth to the toy, coating it in saliva. Mandy does the same thing on her end while one of Clarke’s free hand makes its way to Mandy’s tits. Clarke tweaks a nipple and grins broadly at Mandy’s pleasured outburst. It’s all a lust-filled hazy mess and I sort of lose track of what’s going on. Before I know it, Clarke is nestled between my legs, leaning back against my chest with one end of the dildo in her pussy, the other end in Mandy’s. One of Mandy’s hands is wrapped around Magnus’s cock as she strokes him off. We’re a mess of tangled limbs and I vaguely register that one of Mandy’s calves is hooked on my knee so she can gain some leverage to thrust against Clarke. Clarke grips Mandy’s knee with one hand while her other hand squeezes my forearm.

To our side, Talia grunts in pleasure as Lucas takes her from behind. She’s holding the Hitachi to the center of the dildo so that the vibrations travel through it, and every time Clarke and Mandy thrust their cunts together, the vibrator meets their clits. Eventually they’re both just grinding against the vibrator, writhing and mewling in ecstasy.

Clarke’s shaking voice is barely intelligible, “Bell, play with my tits… please.” I happily oblige, kneading the ample flesh to draw lusty cries out of her.

I hear Mandy call out to Clarke, “I’m so close, Clarke! I’m so fucking close!”  

Clarke just moans with her eyes closed. Initially, I think she’s lost in bliss, then I feel her squeeze and scratch my forearm. She wants something from me…

“You need me to talk to you, Clarke?”

She nods feverishly, “Please…”

“Do you have any idea what you look like right now?”

Clarke shakes her head, “Tell me.”

“It’s fucking _dangerous_ how hot you are. Look at that shaft disappearing into your tight cunt… Does it feel good, baby?”

Clarke nods as she bites her lip. She lifts one arm above her head and hooks it around my neck while her other hand continues to dig into my forearm. “It feels so fucking good, baby.”

I lower my mouth to her ear, “You gonna come with Mandy? I wanna see you come at the same time as her...”

She shivers and nods as Mandy cries out, “Clarke, baby, come with me! I’m gonna come!”  

I hold Clarke close to me as she tightens her arm around my neck. I watch, captivated, while her entire body goes rigid as she surrenders to a powerful orgasm. Mandy cries out in rapture while Clarke is completely quiet, wholly lost in her own pleasure as her form shakes in ecstasy.

I whisper in her ear, “You’re so fucking beautiful, Clarke… I love watching you come…” She pulls my head down and meets my lips in a languid kiss. She gasps as the dildo is pulled out of her and takes the opportunity to turn around and straddle my legs. Then we just get _lost_ in each other. Tongues tangling, hands wandering, chests heaving… In the background, the four other playmates are still at it. Talia does, in fact, get her wish to be fucked in the ass while Mandy fucks her pussy with a sizable dildo. Clarke seems like she could care less, though.

She mumbles against my lips, “Take me to bed…”

I nod, announcing with a grin, “Guys we’re out.”

They acknowledge us with smiles and thank-yous as we put on our robes. Clarke goes over and lays a kiss each on Talia and Mandy, thanking them for a beautiful night. We can’t get back to our room fast enough. Unable to wait to have her, I repeatedly press her into the nearest wall. Each time, I get her off a little with my fingers, not to orgasm, but enough to tease… When we _finally_ arrive at our room, Clarke tears our robes off as the door slams behind us. Miraculously, I’m sporting an erection, which is a pleasant, since I sincerely thought my cock was done for the night after my last orgasm.

Clarke’s stands by the bed with her hands on the side of the mattress and her voice is straight-up _wild_ as she tells me over her shoulder, “Take me hard and fast, Bellamy.” I come up behind her, grab onto her hips, and waste no time plunging into her, drawing out a lecherous wail.   I pull out of her almost all the way and snap my hips back in over and over.  I push the heel of my hand up and along her spine, directing her to bend all the way forward. With my palm firmly placed on the back of her neck, I set a punishing rhythm that has her coming apart in record time as she fists the sheets with guttural moans. I smack her ass with the palm of my free hand, delighting in the powerful squeeze of her cunt around my cock.

Her voice is coarse, “ _Fuck_ , I’m close, baby.”

Thank god, because there’s no way I can draw this out. “Come on my cock, Clarke – I wanna feel you come!”

She comes with a strangled cry, and her pulsating walls draw my release soon after... My orgasm is muted in intensity, at least in comparison to the rest of tonight, but it's still nothing short of satisfying. Clarke relaxes into the mattress, still face-first with her legs hanging off the edge. I slide out of her and lift my hand off of her neck so I can flop down beside her.

She opens one eye with a grin and a lazy voice, “Hi…”

I huff a laugh, “Hi, yourself…” I brush my knuckles along her smooth skin, enthralled by her softness and grinning at the goosebumps that erupt along the way.

After spending a few minutes coming down, Clarke pushes herself up off the mattress. “I’ll shower in the morning. But I’ve gotta at least brush my teeth.  And pee.”  She laughs at herself, "That was real sexy... saying 'I've gotta pee.'"

I laugh with her, “I hear you... Let's get ready for bed." 

After brushing teeth and taking care of business, I’m lying in bed with Clarke sprawled out on my chest. I bring my hand up to look at my watch.  “Holy shit, Clarke. It’s fucking 5:30 in the morning.”

She laughs, “Yeah, I know. Way past our bedtime… Do we have to be out of here by a certain time?”

I shake my head, “Nah. No check-out time at Casa de Porter.”

She sighs in relief, “Thank god.” After a few more moments of silence she tells me, “This whole fucking thing has been incredible, Bellamy.”

I chuckle, “I feel like that’s almost an understatement.”

She nods in agreement and props her chin on my chest to look me in the eyes, “Yeah, but I’m not one for words right now.  I know it was awesome because you were there.  You made it great.  It was a fun experience, and I'm really glad we did it.  But in all seriousness, you were the only thing that mattered...”

I tighten my arm around her, "Clarke, you were amazing tonight.  I've never been more turned-on in group sex as I was tonight.  Like, ever. _Y_ _ou_ made it great.  It was a different experience having you involved."

She quirks an eyebrow, "Good-different?"

I nod with a smirk, "Yeah, Clarke.  Good-different.  Really fucking good." 

She smiles, "Thank you for doing it with me, Bellamy."

"I'm glad we did it." 

"Me too.  Now let’s get some sleep... I love you.”

I kiss the top of her head as she succumbs to sleep, "I Love you, too..."  

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaand that wraps up the play party... *Phew*
> 
>  
> 
> **KINK PSA**  
> Lube. Lube. Lube. Getting all medical here: The Anal canal does not produce natural lubricant like the vagina does. Use lube with Anal play, okay? Your ass will thank you for it. 
> 
> I think a proposal might be coming up soon :-) 
> 
> As usual, if you haven't left KUDOS, please do! 
> 
> And I say this every time, but seriously, REVIEWS are incredibly motivating. Sometimes I get mini writer's block, and I ward it off by coming back to read the comments you guys leave. So, you never know just how helpful a few sentences can be :-)
> 
> I think I've peddled my other fic on here before, but in case you haven't checked it out, I would LOVE for you to read it: [The Only Thing That Makes Moving Worse is Bellamy Blake](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4532115/chapters/10313604/). It started out fluffy, got smutty, and is evolving into a sexual awakening story (of a less kinky variety than this fic). 
> 
> Come laugh with/at me on [tumblr](http://missemarissa.tumblr.com/) (MissEMarissa) while I figure out what the hell I'm doing...
> 
> Last, but not least, THANK YOU ALL for reading!


	44. happy birthday, princess

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bellamy sends Clarke on a birthday treasure hunt...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YOU GUYS ARE LEGIT AWESOME!!!  
> Thank you guys so much for all of your comments and kudos! I had a great time writing the play party chapters, and I'm so glad it got such a great reception :) Please, please keep them coming - they're like crack! 
> 
> As promised, this chapter is FLUFFY AF. Like, schedule a dentist appointment because you're gonna get a cavity... I mean, we start a little smutty, but fluff commences shortly thereafter. :-) 
> 
> Also, I'm getting closer and closer to not being completely inept on tumblr - it's a lot of fun on there, and you should totally come check me out on my [tumblr](http://missemarissa.tumblr.com/)!

I feel myself being pulled from a dream. I’ve already forgotten what it was about as my awareness of reality begins to displace the dream world... I listen for Bellamy’s steady breaths, but everything is completely silent. When I open my eyes, I can see that the room is dimly lit and the shades are drawn. I reach behind me to feel for Bellamy, but the sheets on his side are cold. Confused, I sit up to see what’s going on.   There’s a note on his pillow with a soft pink peony sitting on top. I bring it to my nose, breathing in my favorite floral scent as I read the note.

 _Happy Birthday, Princess_  
_I’m sorry I’m not there to wake you up_  
_(and there are a thousand ways I can think of to say good morning)_  
_I’m putting the final touches on your birthday present._  
_You get to see it tonight._  
_But first, you’re going to go on a treasure hunt of sorts._  
_At each stop, you’ll be met by someone special to you_  
_Your first clue is in the kitchen._

This seems like a lot of trouble to go through for a birthday gift, but I’ve got the day free. I might as well see where this leads me…

I see myself in one of the full-length mirrors as I enter the bathroom and I feel a heat building up between my legs when I see that I’m wearing one of Bellamy’s shirts. After I turn the water on, I tug at the shirt hem. I pull it off to reveal my naked form and I’m immediately reminded of the severe “Birthday strapping” Bellamy gave me last night. My skin wears evidence of the instruments he used to send me into a deep state of subspace, and I feel a sense of serenity as I take a deep breath and examine the remains of the welts and bruises bestowed upon me by my loving sadist… The welts are just red marks now, no longer raised against my skin. I smile as I think about the fact that the darkened skin of the bruises will linger for days. I get a morbid pleasure out of mentally cataloging the new marks against older ones. I begged him to leave marks on me last night, and boy did he deliver… Thankfully, it’s winter, so I don’t have to be concerned about wearing revealing swimwear that could provoke questions from others.

Bellamy is taking a more active role as my Dominant. We’ve come to a new agreement that I won’t touch myself and won’t orgasm without his permission. This decree has been in effect in the bedroom since the beginning, but now it applies 24/7. Meaning, I can’t just get myself off whenever I want. I’ve given that dominion of my pleasure over to him… I’ve broken the rules twice, and the punishments have been harsh. The first time I received 20 lashes with the belt and wasn’t allowed to come for the rest of the night. The second time, I wasn’t allowed to touch myself for 48 hours. He went so far as to put a calendar alarm on my phone, setting it so it would go off in exactly 48 hours. He also set a countdown timer, which proved to be absolutely infuriating… It didn’t sound like a big deal at first, but it became practically an _ordeal_ for me, especially in the mornings, when Bellamy’s voice would be graveled and sexy as fuck. The first morning, he came out of the shower and I almost cried because I was so turned on by the leftover drops of water trickling down his bare chest. I had been deprived of an orgasm all night, so I was unbelievably horny by that point. It was fucking torture… He smirked at the groan that escaped me, raising an eyebrow as I licked my lips hungrily. I actually _screamed_ into a pillow when he turned around and dropped the towel off his hips, giving me a gratuitous view of his toned ass. I went the rest of the day (and the next) in a state of sexually frustrated irritation.

On the second night, 47 and a half hours into my punishment, he came home from the grocery store to find me in the kitchen wearing nothing but my stilettos, sitting on the granite countertop with one leg crossed over the other, stirring a jar of honey (yeah, I had to disinfect the damn counter later, but that was the last thing on my mind at that point). I was hoping it would persuade him into letting me off (getting me off) a few minutes early… He walked in and froze in his tracks when he saw me. Seeing his darkened expression, I took it farther, dipping my fingers into the sticky liquid and slowly (messily) dribbling it to my mouth, making sure to trickle a generous amount of it over my tits. I looked up at him with an innocent expression, asking, “Oops, did I spill some?” I delighted in the crash of broken glass when he dropped the grocery bags on the floor and came at me. He fucking lost it while he devoured every last drop of the viscous fluid…

Of course, he dragged it out, teasing me mercilessly with his tongue and fingers while my entire body was thrashing on the smooth, cold countertop. It wasn’t until the goddamn alarm went off that he _finally_ let me come, and _oh my god_ … I was still recovering from the first orgasm when he hauled me off the countertop with a wicked grin, spinning me around and bending me over. I gripped onto the other side of the island while he unbuckled his pants and pulled himself out (in record time, I might add) then plunged straight into me. All I could do was hold on, completely blissed out as he fisted his hand into my hair, pulling until my back was arched and my pebbled nipples were dragging along the frigid surface with each brutal thrust. And for the rest of the night, I was just along for the ride.

We had a good laugh when we walked into the kitchen the next morning to find the mess of forgotten grocery bags. I couldn’t really bring myself to be upset about the spoiled milk…

So in our updated arrangement, it’s not that I _can’t_ touch myself. I just have to ask him first. And holy fuck that gets me so incredibly hot… It adds an entire new (and extremely powerful) level of eroticism for me. There’s something incredibly suggestive and erotic about the mere act of asking for his approval so I can bring myself to climax. Each orgasm I’ve been granted since we’ve enacted this new rule has been astonishingly intense…

I feel a rush of arousal between my thighs as I run my fingers over my bruised and marred flesh. I turn around in the mirror to follow the marks and gasp as I see the array of stripes left over from the strap and cane. My hand starts to wander and I suddenly remember the rule. I practically trip over my own feet as I dash into the bedroom to get my phone. I dial Bellamy but he doesn’t pick up. I’m slightly ashamed by my desperation when I leave a message on his voicemail, “Bellamy, I need you. Please call me back…” I send him a text next.

**_Bell, please, I need you to call me back_ **

With a frustrated sigh, I set the phone on the counter and step into the shower, closing the frosted glass door behind me. I breathe the thick steam into my lungs as I step under the spray, luxuriating in the sensation of hot water flowing over my shoulders and down the length of my body. I’m growing increasingly aware of the need inside of me, and it’s my birthday, so maybe I can get a free pass or something… Just when I’m considering breaking the rule, the phone rings. I fly out of the shower to answer it, tripping over the ledge on the way. After nearly slipping on my ass as I dash across the bathroom, I pick it up just in time.

My voice is breathless, “Bell?”

He sounds panicked, “Clarke, is everything okay?”

I groan, “Technically, yeah everything’s fine, but…”

“What’s going on?”

“I went into the bathroom to take a shower after I saw your note – and thank you for the birthday wishes by the way, I loved the flower, but back to what I was saying – I went into the bathroom and got undressed and saw your marks, and they really turned me on, and now I really need…” I take a deep breath, mortified that I’m this desperate.

His voice goes low, “What do you need, Clarke?”

I whimper, “I need to get myself off… But I can’t.”

“Why can’t you do that, Princess?”

“Because you haven’t given me permission, Sir.”

He chuckles, “All you have to do is ask.”

I actively compose myself so my voice doesn’t squeak when I ask, “May I touch myself, Sir?”

His graveled tone alone nearly sends me over the edge, “You may, Princess.”

I breathe a sigh of relief, “Thank you, Sir.”

He interjects, “But…”

“But what?”

“You have to do it while I’m listening.”

I’m already furiously rubbing my thighs together, “Of course.” An idea strikes me, “I’m hooking my phone up to the bathroom speakers.”

He chuckles, “Why’s that?”

I connect the components, “Because, I want to hear you while I fuck myself, Sir. Also, I want to do it in the shower, and I probably shouldn’t take my phone in there.”

He agrees, “That would probably be ill-advised.”

I step back under the spray and drop my head back so the water saturates my hair while I await Bellamy’s instructions.

“Are you touching yourself, Princess?”

I shake my head, forgetting he can’t see me. After a few seconds, I realize that I need to actually speak, “No sir, not yet. You didn’t tell me to.”

“Good girl. I want you to drag your fingers along your arms… then circle them around your tits.   But don’t touch your nipples yet… Are you doing what I said?”

I nod, “Yes, Sir. I am.”

“Are your nipples all pebbled up?”

“Yes… they’re very hard.”

“Now, Princess. I want you to pinch them, hard.”

I do as he says and a lecherous moan escapes me. “I can hear you, Princess… You making it hurt?”

“Mmmph, yes…” Each pinch sends jolts of pleasure straight to my clit.

“Pull on them, pull them away from your body… Now let go. What do they look like?”

I look down, “They’re darker now… And they’re puffier… sticking out more.”

“Mmm good. Now take the hand-held shower head and sit on the tile ledge… spread your legs wide open.”

“Can I-”

“Not yet. I want you to tease yourself. Run the spray along your legs… start at your feet and trail it up your calf muscle… now your inner thigh… move it up to your stomach, then spray it over your tits for me.” When he hears me moan, he continues, “Now you can move it down to your pussy. Be a good girl and massage your pussy lips first. Don’t touch your clit with the water yet.”

I do as he commands, my clit craving the force of the water but being denied… Once I let out a particularly frustrated groan, he chuckles, “Okay, Princess. You can touch the water to your clit…”

“Ohhhhh, god…”

“Fuck, Princess… your voice is so fucking hot. I wanna hear you.”

My whimpers get louder as I continue to tweak and pull on my nipples with my free hand. The pleasure coils deep in my abdomen. “Oh, god, I’m gonna-”

“That’s it… let me hear you come, Princess.”

My moans become sobs and I release a loud cry as my orgasm crashes over me. Bellamy keeps talking me through it as intense waves of pleasure roil through me. I breathe a sigh of relief, “Thank you…”

“You good, now?”

I laugh, “Yeah, I’m good.”

“Happy birthday, Princess.”

“Thank you…” My breaths eventually return to a normal rate and I stand back up. “I’m gonna finish my shower now.”

“Okay. See you later, okay?”

“Yeah… I’ll see you later. Love you, Bell.”

“Love you, too Clarke.”

He hangs up and I quickly finish showering. I blow-dry my hair into loosened curls that frame my face. I have to put a metric ton of concealer on with the airbrush to cover up the numerous hickeys and bite marks left on me by Bellamy. I finish off my makeup with a natural look, smacking my lips together to rub in my lip gloss. I dress in a cream-colored V-neck top that strategically covers any marks left on my chest. I tuck dark skinny jeans into my favorite knee-high boots and complete the outfit with a black jacket.

I step into the kitchen, wondering what Bellamy could possibly mean when he refers to a “clue.” I nearly jump out of my skin when I hear the disembodied sound of a throat clearing. Raven laughs at my shrieks as she emerges from the dark recesses of my dining room.

“Fuck, Raven, you scared the hell out of me! You can’t just sneak up on people like that.”

Raven snorts, “Clarke, I’d hardly call that ‘sneaking up’ on anyone.” She sighs, “I was simply sitting quietly on this chair here. No sneaking involved. I think you’re getting skittish in your advanced age.”

I roll my eyes, “Hush. I’m 33, not 83.”

She rolls her eyes, “I suppose. You certainly didn’t sound elderly half an hour ago.”

My eyes widen while a fierce blush creeps up my neck and settles heatedly on my cheeks. “Oh, shit. You heard-?”

She laughs, “Relax, it’s nothing I haven’t heard from you before. And yes, I’m complimenting myself.”

I hide my face behind my hands, “Fuck... I should’ve put the white noise machines on. Alex wasn’t home this weekend and I didn’t know anyone was in the house.”

She cackles, “Well, in the future, just remember that your _dog_ is in the house, and I think she’s scarred for life.”

I burst into laughter, “Oh my god, poor Zoe!” After a few moments, I compose myself enough to ask, “What _are_ you doing here, though?”

She shrugs her shoulders, “Your man has tasked me with keeping you focused for this ridiculously over-the-top birthday scavenger hunt he’s put together. You know, supervise you and all that.”

I narrow my eyes, “I feel like you’re a little too enthusiastic about this.” She grins with a shrug of her shoulders. I study her for a minute, “Okay, fine, we’ll do this. But only because I miss you like crazy. _Not_ because I’m bending to anyone’s will.”

Raven smirks, “Yeah, yeah. Not the boss of you. Whatever.” She slides over an envelope. I open it up and pull out a piece of paper, neatly cut with Bellamy’s handwriting on it. “This is your first clue. It made no sense to me when he told me, but he said you should get it right away. It’ll tell you where to go next.”

 _In a sea of glitter and lights_  
_I told a tale_  
_to curious ears_  
_of a boy who loved a girl_

I laugh when I flip the card over and see his little post script:

_(*I’m not a poet. Don’t expect masterpieces in prose.*)_

I smile as I read it, “Lakeside. He told Alex the story of how we met while they were on a ride this summer.”

Raven raises an eyebrow, “That’s… alarming. What the hell did he tell her?”

I grin, “Something romantic and cheesy. But Alex loved it.”

She rolls her eyes amusedly, “What a sap. Okay, let’s go, Griffin.”

I chuckle, “Alright, alright. Are you driving?”

She scoffs, “Yeah, obviously. You know I hate being in the car when you’re behind the wheel.”

I bring my hand to my chest in feigned offense, “What, you don’t like how animated I get when I’m reprimanding other drivers?”

She gives me a level look, “I’m not as concerned about your ‘animation’ as I am about you following through on the direct threats you make toward other cars.”

I shrug, “Valid point. I don’t wanna drive on my birthday, anyway. But I’m hungry, so we’re stopping somewhere to grab a snack.”

“Not a problem,” She says as she’s pushing buttons on her phone. I’m curious who she’s texting, but I make the decision now that I’ll go ahead and let myself be surprised by wherever the day takes me.

We get into Raven’s car and head toward Lakeside Amusement Park, stopping off at Starbucks for a caramel macchiato and a pink cake pop. Breakfast of champions. Raven gives me a judgmental look. I snort, “Shut up, it’s my birthday. Let’s’ go.”

Back in the car, she asks, “So what’s with Lakeside? Isn’t it just some old-as-shit theme park?”

I nod, “Yeah, but Bellamy and O used to go there all the time, so he got Alex all hooked on it. Which is unfortunate, because the place is… awful.”

She laughs, “I’m guessing it’s more about sentimentality than actual enjoyment.”

“Yeah, for Bellamy. But Alex genuinely loves the place.”

As we pull into the entrance lane for vehicles, I ask her, “Are we supposed to go to the ride? Or just the park?”

“The ride. You remember which one?”

I nod, “I do. The Spider.”

Her face transforms into a scowl, “That’s a terrible name for a ride.”

I laugh, “It’s a terrible ride, too. Come on, look around you – this place is a nightmare cloaked in glitter.”

She nods as she takes in the surroundings, “Ah, glitter… The clue makes sense now.”

After parking the car, we make our way over to the spider.   My gaze lands on a head of curly blonde hair and I can’t help but feel immensely happy that my daughter is standing there. When Alex sees me, she comes sprinting over and nearly levels me with a hug.

“Happy birthday mom!” She announces loudly for everyone around us to hear.

I grin, “Thanks, Alex. So, Bellamy roped you into his little scavenger hunt, too?”

She grins, “Of course. I love complicated birthday gifts!” Her mouth drops open, “Oh! I almost forgot, we have something for you!” She darts off toward Nate and Jane, who are making their way over.

They greet me with friendly hugs, “Happy Birthday, Clarke.” Jane is holding a bouquet of flowers that she hands over to me with a sweet smile.

I take them, remarking on the beauty of the bouquet of ranunculus and lisianthus, which are hard to find this time of year. “Thank you so much. These are beautiful.”

Alex tugs on my arm, “Come on, mom. We’re taking you to lunch!”

“We’re not staying here?” I try to hide the relief in my voice, but she catches it.

“I’ve been here all morning, so I’ve had my fill. So let’s all go get lunch.”

I laugh, “Where are we going?”

Alex grins, “The Spaghetti Factory downtown.”

“Oh, that sounds delicious. We haven’t eaten there in months.”

Alex nods, “No time like the present.”

“True.”

“Speaking of presents, you can open mine when we get to the restaurant.” Alex chuckles at her word play.

 

Alex rides with me and Raven to the restaurant, filling us in on her recent ski trip with Katelyn. “It was so cool, mom! I made it down the entire run without wiping out.”

I smile, “That’s better than I can do.”

She laughs, “I know mom. You’re awful at it.”

Raven snorts, “You have to be bad at something.”

I nod, “Yeah, I’ve gotta say, I’m okay with not excelling at throwing myself sown a cold-ass mountain.” I glance back at Alex, “But really, I’m glad you enjoy it.”

Alex grins, “Me, too.”

“So changing topics,” Raven says amusedly, “Have you figured out what you’re going to do when you grow up, Alex?”  

Alex shrugs, “The possibilities are endless. I could be a doctor, like mom and nana. You know, following their footsteps or whatever.” I nod thoughtfully. I have a feeling she wants nothing to do with medicine, but says it because she thinks I want to hear it. She continues, “But I also like to argue. So I could be a lawyer, too. Dad would like that.”

I chuckle, “Your dad and I will support you no matter what you want to do.”

She raises a playful eyebrow, “What if I want to do beauty pageants?”

I scoff, “Except that. That’ll be a ‘hard pass’ on my part...”

Alex grins, “Don’t get too worked up, mom. I’m just messing with you.”

I shrug, “Nothing against beauty queens, but I don’t think I have it in me to be a stage mom.”

Raven laughs, “That’ll be the day… What’s your favorite subject, Alex?”

Her face is resolute, “Math. Definitely math.”

Raven smirks, “You should go into a math-related field. We women are totally underrepresented there.”

Alex nods, wide-eyed, “You know, Raven? That’s a really cool idea.”

I smile, “Really, Alex – you’re the tiny feminist, remember? I can see it now – you paving the way for more women mathematicians.”

Alex has an excited look on her face. “I could be an engineer… Or a rocket scientist.”

Raven fist-pumps in the air, “That’s my girl.”

I chuckle, “I could definitely get behind that…”

 

 

After navigating downtown traffic, we arrive at the restaurant to find Octavia and Lincoln already seated at a large table.

I smile, “Of course you’re part of this, O.”

We pull each other into a tight hug and she squeezes me hard, “I wouldn’t miss it for anything.”

“God, Bellamy has gone all-out on this…”

O pulls back with a smile and rolls her eyes, “And that surprises you?”

I shrug, “Kinda. Like, when the hell did he have time to put all this together?”

“Well, he didn’t do it alone. But you know he’ll do anything for you, Clarke.”

I feel excitement bubbling up inside when I think about that. “Yeah, I think I do know.”

Octavia squeezes my shoulder, “Good. Now let’s order our food because the babies are hungry.”

I laugh, “Obviously…”

As we sit around the table eating our delicious lunch, I take a look at the people around me. They’ve all come from different eras of my life, but they fit so well into it now. I look at Octavia and remember the surly thirteen-year old with a seemingly permanent glare etched onto her face. That same girl turned into a sixteen-year old wild child who made it her mission to push boundaries and buttons in equal measure. She’s fiercely loyal to her brother. So much so that she wouldn’t give up the “Blake” surname when she married Lincoln. Now Octavia is literally _bursting_ with life. I smile fondly as I watch her speak animatedly across the table with Alex, who grins over at Lincoln.

And Lincoln – I remember when Lexa introduced us to this muscled-out brooding bad boy. He and Octavia were gone for each other within seconds of meeting... I stifle a laugh at the memory of Bellamy completely losing his shit over his then-eighteen year old little sister falling head over heels for a guy who was older than he was. I remember having to take Bellamy outside to calm him down, informing him that he most definitely could _not_ could take on Lincoln, so please don’t try... I assured him that Octavia was just going through a phase, she just wanted to dip her feet in the bad-boy pool, no big deal… Who would’ve predicted that ten years later they’d be in the longest-running relationship of any of us? Lincoln, who started out so stoic, and has become so… well, he’s still pretty damn stoic to the untrained eye. But the light in his eyes for Octavia is unmatched and insuppressible.

Then there’s Nate and Jane – two people who got me through dark times, back when I didn’t know who I could depend on or trust. He’s my sole one-night-stand, soon to be married to one of my favorite physician colleagues. I am grateful to have a co-parent for Alex who is so thoroughly invested in her well-being. And Jane is heaven-sent in terms of step-moms: Kind, patient, and respectful. She whispers something in Raven’s ear, prompting her to laugh one of her _real_ laughs.

Raven. One of the strongest, most resilient people I’ve ever known. I’m eternally grateful that the painful origin of our friendship didn’t stifle the profound bond we developed. After being injured in a multi-car pileup years ago, she lost most function in her left leg. I will always be impressed with her ability to bounce back. She worked with physical therapy and regained enough function to carry on a relatively normal life. Then the ever-persistent Kyle Wick came into the picture and pushed her to want more. Being an engineer, he designed a state-of-the-art brace. Raven, of course, was resistant to accepting help of any kind. She finally agreed to look at his design, and to no one’s surprise, she had all kinds of modifications to make on his “tragic” design, but they worked it into a device that enables her to walk normally. Raven Reyes pushes herself and relies on nobody to get what she needs out of life. But Kyle has brought out a joy in her I hadn’t ever seen before. She catches my eye and I smile at her before I feel Alex’s elbow bump mine.

I turn so I can see my daughter and she looks up at me with one of her kind smiles. I’m filled with love as she interlaces her fingers with mine as she leans her head on my shoulder.

“Happy birthday mom. I know I said it already.”

I grin, “I’m happy to hear it again.”

Alex’s face lights up like she remembers something. She jumps out of her seat and walks over to Nate, who pulls out her meticulously-wrapped, rather sizable-looking gift. She brings it back to me and tells me to open it up. It’s a beautiful set of wind chimes. The kind that are really long and heavy and like an inch in diameter. I stand to hold them up and swing the pendulum a bit, closing my eyes and letting the deep resonating sound fill me.

I open my eyes, smiling broadly, “I absolutely love them, Alex.”

She nods proudly, “Good. I thought you might.”

“How did you know I wanted wind chimes for the back patio?”

She shrugs, “I just saw them and felt like you needed to have them.”

I grin, “Well-done, daughter. Well-done.”           

I smile at Nate and Jane, “Thank you guys for taking her shopping.”

Nate shakes his head with a laugh, “It wasn’t me this time.”

Alex interjects, “Bellamy took me. We went to Cherry Creek a while back.”

I nod, “Of course. I think I’ll be thanking him later, then.”

Raven gives me a knowing grin and Octavia makes an exaggerated gagging sound while Lincoln rubs her back with a laugh.

Nate clears his throat to get our attention, “It’s time we got going.”

“OH! Alex’s swim meet this afternoon! I almost forgot!”

Alex pats my arm in a near-condescending manner, “Relax mom. You’re excused this week – you’ve got a scavenger hunt to complete.”

“Are you sure?”

She gives me a puzzled glance, “Yeah, I’m pretty sure this was only your first or second stop.”

I laugh, “No, I meant are you sure you’re not upset I’m missing your meet?”

She shakes her head with a grin, “It’s cool. It’s not a qualifying meet, so it’s not a big deal.”

“If you say so.”

She pops her chin out, “I _do_ say so.”

“Alright, then.” I pull her into a tight hug, “I’m so, _so_ glad I got to see you on my birthday. And I absolutely _love_ the wind chimes.”

She smiles, “Good. I knew you would.” She glances behind me and nods, “Now go. You’re already running behind, if I’m not mistaken.”

I turn around to see Raven tapping her wrist, pointing to an invisible watch. She schools her features just a little too late and shrugs her shoulders when I give her a pointed look. “Really, Raven?”

She tilts her head toward Octavia, who fishes an envelope out of her purse and hands it to me with a hug. As I open it she tells me, “This is your next clue.” I feel myself blush a little when I read the inscription.

 _Go and have some dessert at the place_  
_where we found each other once more_  
_I’ll never forget the surprise on your face_  
_when you saw me walk in through the door_

She gives me an expectant look, “Do you know where it is?”

I bite my lip with an amused grin, “Sure do…”

Octavia smiles with relief, “Good. Because I forgot, and I was supposed to be able to tell you the answer if you couldn’t figure it out.”

I shake my head with a smile, “There’s no way I would forget this one.”

“Good to hear.” She pulls me in for a hug, “Happy birthday, Clarke.”

I squeeze her back, “Thanks, O.” I give goodbye-hugs to Lincoln, Nate, and Jane before heading back to the car with Raven.

 

 

As we buckle our seatbelts, Raven asks, “So where the fuck are we going?”

I laugh, “It’s this diner, I’ll show you how to get there.”

She nods as she pulls out of the parking space and exits the parking lot. “I take it there’s a story behind it?”

I nod, “Yup.”

“Care to share?”

I smirk, “It’s… where Bellamy and I ran into each other last March. It was when we decided to give the whole relationship thing a try.”

“I get it. That’s sappy. But Bellamy’s been a barrel of surprises with sappy shit today, so yeah…”

I shrug, “I don’t know, he was always kind of ridiculously sentimental. With O and Aurora, especially.”

She nods, “It makes sense that he’s like that with you, then.”

“What do you mean?”

She shrugs, “I mean, you’re important to him. Probably the most important thing in his life. So yeah, he’s going to be all mushy and shit for you. Get used to it.”

I laugh, “Yeah, it’s a real hardship… Having a romantic for a boyfriend.”

She rolls her eyes, “You know you love it.”

I nod with a contented smile, “Yeah, I do.”

 

 

It doesn’t take long to get to the diner. We walk in and I see Talia and Lucas waiting at the corner table where I sat with them the first time I was here. On the table sits a wrapped gift, bound in intricate knots. Obviously a nod to my ever-growing obsession with rope bondage, not that Raven needs to know that…

Luc and Talia get up to greet me with warm hugs and cheek-kisses. Then Lucas turns his attention to Raven with surprise etched on his features.

“Reyes! Long time no see!”

You can imagine my surprise when Raven greets him back with familiarity, “I thought that was you, Porter. How the hell have you been?”

I pray to every deity in the world that they’re friends from an old job or something… “Uh, so how do you guys know each other?” As the words tumble from my lips, I feel a fated recognition settle over me.

Raven turns to me with a shit-eating grin on her face, “Oh. My. God.” (Yeah, she’s going to be insufferable about this). “You and Bellamy are kinky! Holy shit!” She claps her hands together like a goddamn sea lion. Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if she broke into a dance or something. “Oh shit! Of course you are. Why am I even surprised?”

I feel the heat rising up my neck, and I’m certain my cheeks are a fierce shade of red by now. “Yeah, yeah, yeah… Please, shut the fuck up, Raven.”

She cackles and throws her head back, “Shit!”

I give her a pointed look, “Yeah, Okay. Now you know. You might understand why we don’t want the _rest_ of the world to know?”

She smiles sincerely and puts a hand on my shoulder, “Relax, Clarke. You’re kinky secrets are safe with me.”

I release a breath I didn’t realize I was holding, “Thank you, Raven.” I glance over at Luc and Talia, “So you know Lucas. Do you know Talia?”

Raven smiles at Talia, “I can’t say I’ve had the pleasure. It’s been years since I’ve seen Lucas.”

Lucas introduces Talia to Raven and they seem to hit it off quickly. They share some jokes about munches and hiding a BDSM lifestyle in plain sight. My head is reeling that yet another person in my life is involved in this. First my mom, who is the one who planted the seed in the first place. I honestly never thought any of my friends would be into this. Though, I never imagined Bellamy would be in this scene, either…

I ask Raven, “So, if you knew Lucas, how did you not cross baths with Bellamy before? Like, in this context?”

She laughs, still far too amused by this revelation, “No fucking clue, Clarke. But I’ve gotta say, a lot of things are making sense now.”

I shake my head with a playful eye roll, “Okay, Raven. Can we table that discussion for later?”

She puts a hand on my shoulder, “Oh, Clarke, honey… Sure. We can put it off. But there’s no way you’re getting out of this conversation.” She smiles, “It _is_ your birthday and that’s why we’re here. So I’ll go ahead and wait to get all the gritty details out of you.” She gives me what Alex calls a _hard stare,_ “But I _will_ get them, Griffin.” She cackles again, “Holy fuck, this is the best day ever.”

I roll my eyes, “Ugh… Moving on.”

“Yeah, yeah… Dessert anyone?”

I order a slice of cherry pie. Both Lucas and Talia grin, catching the _Cherries_ reference. “Nice choice, Clarke.”

I shrug, “What can I say? I’m in a cherry mood today.” I take a few bites when it arrives, “I can’t believe this! You guys are in on it, too?”

Lucas nods, “B is nothing if not thorough…”

Raven almost chokes on her drink. “Wait, _B?”_ She clears her throat (a little _too_ dramatically in my opinion). “ _B?_ Like the famous ‘ _B’_ who disappeared on the group but nobody would stop talking about?”

Lucas chuckles, “Oh, that’s right… He was on a ‘break’ of sorts when you were hanging out with us.”

She shakes her head, her mouth open in shock, “’B’ is Bellamy fucking Blake?”

Talia laughs, “The one and only.”

At this point, I just bend over and bang my forehead on the table repeatedly. “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me… Is the world _really_ this small?”

Raven elbows me and I open one eye to look up at her, “Looks like it, babe.”  All three of them shrug in unison when they grin at me. 

I shake my head… “Well, like I said before. Please keep this between us.”

She nods with sincerity, “I know, Clarke. I won’t say anything, really. Trust me.”

“I do, Rae.”

“Good. She checks her phone. “Shit. Clarke we’ve gotta get going.” She looks at Luc and Talia, “We had scheduled like an hour to hang here, but _someone_ wouldn’t wake her pretty ass out of her beauty sleep, so we’re running behind.”

Talia laughs, “We have to be going, too.” She reaches across the table to cover my hands with hers, “I’m so glad we got to see you today, Clarke.” She looks over at Raven with a broad smile, “And it was wonderful meeting you, Raven. I really hope to see you again.”

Lucas agrees, “Yeah, it was nice to see you. We’ll all have to get together soon.”

Raven looks over at me with a mischievous grin, “Oh, I would just _love_ that…”

I groan, “Alright, Rae. You’re getting far too much enjoyment out of this.”

She raises an eyebrow, “Oh you have no idea, Clarke. Like I already said – Best. Day. Ever.”

Talia smiles conspiratorially, “Love the enthusiasm, Raven.” She pulls out an envelope similar to the one Octavia was holding. “Here’s your next clue. Again, it was wonderful to see you.”

I smile when I read the next clue aloud:

 _It’s time to visit one of our favorite haunts_  
_where so many memories were made_  
_Oh, there are a lot - Some good, some not_  
_May the best ones never fade…_  
_(Cheers)_

I nod, “Grounders.”

Raven smiles arrogantly, “Very good, Clarke.”

I roll my eyes, “You can save the condescension, Raven.”

She laughs, “That’s not gonna happen, Clarke…” She shakes her head, “It’s like you don’t know me at all.”

“Alright you pompous ass… Let’s get going.”

 

 

We make it to the bar where our group in college used to hang out. Bellamy was a bartender at this establishment, so it became natural for us to gravitate here. As I open the heavy door, I anticipate being reminded of the last time I walked in here and saw Bellamy and Echo. But before I can spare a second thought for that nightmare, I hear the loud roar of several people shouting in unison, “Happy Birthday!!!” My whole body jumps in surprise, “Oh my god!” Raven comes from behind me and throws an arm around my shoulders.

“Happy birthday, Babe.”

I laugh, “How did you get all these people here?”

Raven smirks, “Phone calls, facebook… you know. The usual.”

I laugh, “You guys are awesome!”

“Yeah, I know.” She sees Wick and tells me, “I’ll be with Kyle if you need me.”

I nod as Jasper comes seemingly out of nowhere and wraps me up in a hug so tight it’s almost painful. “Happy birthday!”

I pat him on the back, “Thanks, Jas.”

He pulls back and smiles, “Maya said to tell you she’s sorry she couldn’t be here. She’s at home with Vinni.” I smile when I remember that they named their daughter Vinzentia in memory of her father, Vincent.

“I’m sorry I missed her, then. I need to come by and visit – I have some things for Maya.”

“She’d probably love to see you. We’ve had a ton of visitors lately, so she told me she’s glad to have a day with just her and Vinni.”

I smile, “These first months are precious.”

He’s grinning like a fool in love, “Yeah. She’s been great.”

“Well I’m glad I at least got to see you.”

He nods, “Hey, me too. But I have to get going soon. I told her I’d come back and get dinner ready.”

“Those are important fatherly duties.”

He feigns offense, “I take my role very seriously, thank you.”

I squeeze my hand on his shoulder, “I know you do. And I bet you’re doing awesome.”

He hugs me again, “There are more people waiting, so I’ll stop hogging you.”

“Thanks for coming Jasper.”

He nods, “Of course, Clarke.”

I look around for Bellamy but don’t see him anywhere but before I can ask, I see Monty and Miller making their way over to me.  Miller grins, “Well if it isn’t the star of the show…”

More hugs are shared, then we head over to the bar, where we order a round of beer for everyone.

“So guys, how is life?”

Monty shrugs, “Life is good, Clarke. Nathan’s up for a promotion.” Miller smiles and bows his head down sheepishly.

“That’s awesome! Congrats, Nate. Does Bellamy know, yet?”

Miller shakes his head, “No not yet. We’re gonna get together next weekend, I figured I’d tell him then.”

I smile, “Yeah, he told me about that. He’ll be thrilled when you tell him.”

Wick comes waltzing over, “Griffin. I’ve gotta say, you’ve got quite a shindig going here. I wonder, who could have put this awesome party together?”

I roll my eyes, “Let me guess, you were in charge of the bar?”

He grins, “You bet your ass I was. Though my man Monty was a big help.”

Monty shrugs with a smile, “I do what I can.”

Wick playfully punches Monty in the shoulder, “Man, don’t sell yourself short – you’re the one who got hold of everyone here. And the moonshine-” He takes a sip of the drink in his hand, “This batch tastes a lot less like battery acid tonight.”

Monty snorts, “And it’s only been like 15 years of batches… Jasper obviously helped with that.”

Wick nods over at Miller, “Miller found the music.”

I smile and look over at the band on the little corner stage, “Those guys?”

Miller nods, “Yeah, the lead singer is the girlfriend of one of the guys at the precinct.”

I look back over at them, “They’re good.”

Just then, Raven takes the stage. “So, the band here has a little gift for you, Clarke.” She turns around and the band members smile at her and nod. “They might not know you, but we told them how cool you are, and that you could use a kick-ass rendition of ‘happy birthday’ sung to her.”

I laugh as I hide my face, embarrassed by all the attention. I look up again when they start playing a rocked-out version of the happy birthday song. As the song comes to a close, I yell “Thank you!” at the top of my lungs. I shriek when I feel fingers squeeze my sides. I squirm away and turn around to see a mischievous-looking Octavia laughing. “Happy Birthday again!”

I feel the beer getting to me a little as I giggle, “You’re back!”

She nods, “Yeah. I’ve brought stuff for tonight.”

I frown, “Stuff? Tonight? I thought this was the end.”

She laughs, “Not even close, girl.”

“Oh. Is that why Bellamy isn’t here?”

She nods as she pulls on my arm, “Follow me. And don’t worry, you’ll see Bellamy soon.”

I pout a little. I’m missing him at this point and I was really hoping he’d be here.

I follow her until we reach the office, where Raven is waiting for us. “Sterling said his boss would let us use this room to change.”

“Change?”

“Yeah, I raided your closet and found just the thing for you to wear tonight.” Octavia holds up a garment bag and unzips it to reveal this beautiful pale mauve lace dress I bought months ago. 

I gasp, “Oh, wow. I actually haven’t worn this one before. I was saving it for something special.”

Octavia rolls her eyes, “It’s your birthday, Clarke. If that’s not special, I don’t know what is.”

“Okay, you have a point.”

“I’ve gotta go back down to the car and get the makeup. Get changed.”

She exits the room and I disrobe just as Raven walks in. 

“OH! Sorry, I should’ve knocked or said something.”

I shake my head, “No worries. As you pointed out, you’ve seen and heard it all before…” I chuckle, “Anyway, I need you to zip me up.”

She comes to my side and takes note of the marks along the tops of my thighs before I shimmy into the dress. “Shit, you guys really _are_ kinky.”

I shrug, “He’s the sadist to my masochist.”

She snorts, “Sadist… There’s something that doesn’t surprise me.”

I give her a glare, “It’s not like that, Raven. He’s a good person.”

She puts her hands up in a placating manner, “Clarke, you’re preaching to the choir. I know what it is, and I know who he is. He’s a really good person.”

I nod, satisfied, “He is.”

She smiles as she zips the dress the rest of the way, “If he wasn’t, you wouldn’t be with him.” She smirks, “And it sounds like you guys are giving each other just what you need.”

I chuckle, “Yeah, you could say that.”

Octavia walks in with a massive box of makeup. I laugh out loud, “Jesus, O. That’s a lot of makeup… Is my face that awful?” I give her a wry grin.

“Yeah, Clarke. You’re a real eyesore.” We all laugh at her deadpan humor. She continues after a moment, “So, to match your dress, I’m just going to refresh the makeup you’re already wearing. A natural look suits you.”

I nod as I take a seat on the office chair and she gets to work. I’m grateful she won’t be wiping any of the makeup _off_ of me, or she’d find out more than she ever wanted to know about her brother’s propensity for marking me up… When she finishes up, she smiles, satisfied with her handiwork.

She steps back. “Another masterpiece.”

I grin, framing my face like Vanna White on Wheel of Fortune… “Well, you did have _this_ canvas to work with.”

She hands me a pair of nude colored heels that match the dress’s delicacy. I put them on, then stand in front of the mirror to inspect myself. The dress is practically the definition _feminine._ It’s not something I’d necessarily normally wear, but someone had left it in the dressing room when I was shopping one day. I remember shrugging my shoulders and slipping it on, like _why not? It’s just sitting there…_ I looked in the mirror and felt _innocent_ and _carefree_ and _girly_ … things I don’t often give myself the chance to feel. So I bought it, not really knowing when or even _if_ I would wear it. But when Octavia brought it out of the garment bag, I agreed that yes, this is the perfect occasion. I don’t put a lot of stock into my garments. I don’t look for deeper meaning in the clothes I wear (because they’re fucking clothes). But this dress is an exception. It feels special because of how it makes me feel when I wear it.

I trail my fingers over the intricate lace, admiring the scalloped edges of the capped sleeves and the hem, which falls just above my knees. The neckline is higher than what I’d usually wear – almost like a boat-neck style. The waist is high, as well. The combination accentuates my curves in a tasteful way. My eyes trail lower and I turn around in the mirror, breathing a sigh of relief when I confirm that all marks on my thighs are covered by the dress.

I turn back to face Raven and Octavia, “I love it, guys.”

Octavia claps her hands together, “You look fantastic.”

Raven squeezes my hand, “Yeah, you’re stunning, Clarke.”

“Thank you both.”

Octavia elbows Raven, who pulls an envelope from her back pocket. I smile when I see how wrinkled it is, but Raven is not someone who will be bothered to carry a purse around unless she has to.

“Here’s your next stop.”

I huff a laugh, “It’s getting late. I don’t know how many more stops he can put into this little tour of his.” As I read the note, I sniff back a few tears.

 _Your next clue is waiting patiently dear_  
_with a person good and sincere_  
_Go to the place where we meet every year_  
_As a reminder that he is still here_

“He’s sending me to my dad’s grave.”

Raven and Octavia nod, both of them squeezing my shoulder. “You need a minute?”

I shake my head, blinking the tears away and smiling at the sincerity of Bellamy’s intentions. “No, I’m good. Let’s go.”

The three of us head back down to the bar, where everyone sees us out, giving hoots and hollers of birthday wishes. I can’t believe that there are so many of our people here, and I can’t help but wish I could go back and spend more time with them – it was such a short visit for so many people. But, Bellamy has a plan. I’ll trust him with it.

 

 

Raven drives me to the cemetery and parks the car along one of the driving paths. She squeezes my shoulder with her hand and tilts her head in the direction of my dad’s grave.

I look over and I see my mom sitting on the bench next to his grave, her back facing us. I don’t think she heard Raven pull in.

Raven smiles at me, “Go on. She’s waiting for you.”

I nod, a mix of emotions welling up inside of me as I wrap my jacket around myself and make my way over to where my mom is sitting. Seeing my mom here, next to my dad. It’s as close as I’ll ever come to seeing them together again. The fact that he’s merely a headstone now saddens me. I’m reminded of the devastation I felt as a kid, wishing she would just let him come back… Over these past years, we’ve worked through the anger I held because of that. Now I’m just… _sad_ about it. Sad for them.

I approach the bench and sit next to her. “I wasn’t sure if you even knew where dad’s grave was.”

She looks at me with a heartfelt smile and nods, “I come here sometimes.”

Tears threaten to sting the corners of my eyes, “I wish I’d known. I’d have come with you. It never crossed my mind that you’d want to visit.”  

She smiles sadly, “I know your dad and I weren’t on good terms when he died. And I wish every day that I would’ve let go of my anger, that I would have made amends with him. I wish I hadn’t skipped his funeral. I look back at myself with shame, for being too angry to take a weekend off so I could come be here for you. I was selfish, Clarke.”

I nod sadly, “It hurt… But I wasn’t alone. I had Bellamy. And the others. You and I have worked through so much mom. And you know I’ve forgiven you for that.”

She nods with tears in her eyes. “I think the least I can do is choose to remember the good things instead of the bad. Remember the things that made me love him. Like how much he loved you. And god, Clarke. He loved you so much.”

We both break down in tears, hugging each other tight while we mourn the loss of a truly good man. He moved here to be close to me when I was in college, and having no more ties to the east coast, I chose to bury him near me in Colorado. Part of that decision was made in anger at my mom, not wanting to give her the chance to have him nearby. I loved him more, so I made the choice to bury him here, and my mom didn’t fight me on it.

“Bellamy and I come here every year on the anniversary. Well, there were two years where he didn’t come, because he thought I had moved away. But every other year, we’ve been here.”

She’s quiet for a moment, “Bellamy came those years, too.”

I glance at her, “What do you mean? How do you know?”

“He and I talk. Sometimes he calls me to ask questions about you because he’s planning something romantic for you. Other times I call him to just talk about you. He fills me in on things I missed during those years.”

I huff a teary laugh, “You two conspiring? Should I be worried?”

She smiles, “Not at all. That man loves you.”

“I love him, too…” I lean on my mom’s shoulder for a while, “So wait, he told you he came here?”

She nods, “Yeah. He was surprised to see you here because he thought you had moved away.”

I frown, “Why didn’t he come say something to me?”

“There was a reason you told everyone you were leaving. He was respecting your wishes, Clarke.”

I shake my head, “Shit… Sometimes I think I really don’t deserve him…”

She takes my hand between hers, “Don’t ever think you don’t deserve to be happy, Clarke. You both deserve to have good in your lives.”

I nod and put my other hand over hers, “So do you, mom.”

I feel her body shake again and I look up to see her crying again. I bring a hand to her cheek and wipe the tears away. “I love you, mom. And I’m glad you’re here. I’m glad _we’re_ here.”

She smiles, “And that’s another thing we can credit to Bellamy…”

I frown, “How’s that?”

She smiles at me kindly and knowingly, “Ask him some day.”

I nod with a shaky laugh, “Okay.”  

Still smiling, she hands me another envelope. I open it up and smile at the inscription:

_I’m waiting for you  
At the place where our story began _

I sigh, relieved that this emotional “tour” is coming to an end and I’ll finally see him. I’ve missed him all day, wished was there to see all our friends with me. I kept looking around for him, wondering when he was going to pop out and surprise me.

“Does my makeup look okay?”

She brings her thumb up to wipe at my face a few places and nods. “You must have waterproof mascara on.”

I shrug, “I suppose. O did my makeup.”

She smiles, “Well she did a lovely job. And you look perfect.” I open my jacket a little bit to show her the dress, “That’s a beautiful dress.”

I press my hands along it as I study the lace overlay for the millionth time since I put it on. “I was saving it for a special occasion. Octavia told me it was my birthday, so I needed to wear it.”

“Octavia was right. You’re so beautiful, Clarke.”

I shrug, feeling my face blush at the compliment, “Thanks, mom. So are you.” I grin at her, lightening the mood, “I mean, I had to get my looks somewhere, right?”

She pulls me in for a hug. “Get going. He’s waiting for you. I have a gift for you but I accidentally left it at home. Are you going to come by tomorrow for dinner?”

I nod, “We’ll be there.”

“We’ll see you then. Love you, baby girl.”

“I love you too, mom.”  

We share another long, tight hug before I walk back to the car where Raven is waiting.

I slide back into the passenger seat and Raven gives me a gentle smile, squeezing my hand in hers. I sniff back the remainder of my tears and Raven dabs at my eyes to fix my makeup again.

She chuckles light-heartedly, “I told that idiot not to make this the last stop before him...” She sighs as she continues to inspect my face, then hands me a tube of lip gloss. “I told him, ‘Clarke’s gonna cry if you send her there.’ But did he listen to me? No.”  

I smile, “Well, it was a good visit. A really good visit.”

She nods, “Good.” She lets me finish putting my lip gloss before driving away. “You ready?”

I grin, “Yes. Finally…” I hand her the card for her to read, “He’s waiting for me at the music school.”

We drive there in comfortable silence, sort of recouping from the excitement of the day. She pulls the car into the loading lane.

I turn to face her, “You’re not coming in?”

She shakes her head with a grin, “No, it’s not _my_ birthday.”

I pull her into a hug, “Thanks for hanging with me today. I’m glad Bellamy picked you to do this.”

She scoffs, “Psh. Like I would’ve let anyone else supervise you?”

I laugh, “Yeah, yeah, Rae. Still. Thank you.”

“Love you Clarke, and happy birthday.”

“Thanks Rae. And love you too.”

 

I step out of the car, shivering as a cold gust of wind blows over me. I wrap my coat tighter around myself as I walk into the building. The main doors are locked, so I panic a little, wondering if I’m in the wrong place. I go to the side door, where Bellamy and I used to enter to get to our classroom easier. Thankfully, it’s unlocked, so I rush in and pull it closed behind me, reveling in the warmth of the building. I’m still not sure I’m in the right place, but I figure Raven would have told me if I was wrong. And she certainly wouldn’t have driven away. So this has to be it. The door opens at a stairwell, which feels like a crossroads of sorts. Does he want me to go to the lobby? Or the library? Where the hell in this building is he supposed to be?

 _Where our story first began…_ I’ve got it. I make my way up the stairs to the third floor, to the classroom where Bellamy and I finally spoke civilly to each other, where we got matched for that Stravinsky project. As I get closer to the classroom, I see a trail of flower petals. Tons and tons of petals. And _oh fuck, holy_ _shit_. I get the distinct feeling that this is much more than just a birthday thing. The door to the classroom is closed and locked, so I follow the trail instead, trying to stifle the giddy squeal that is dying to escape me. I try, really, _really_ hard to take slow and steady steps, but there’s too much excitement bubbling up inside of me. I keep tracking the path, my steps get faster and faster as I get to another stairwell and make my way up the stairs to the next floor, and by the time I get to the door to exit the stairs, I’m practically running. The loud “Boom” as the door collides with the wall startles me into slowing down. The trail continues to the music library. Because _of course_ it does.

I open the double doors and find Bellamy standing in the center of it. He looks… nervous.

“Shit.” He laughs, “I mean… wow.”

I grin with a shrug of my shoulders and his nervousness is replaced by a beaming smile. I walk farther into the room, looking around at the place where he and I used to come and study, long after we stopped the music program. We kept coming here, partly because it was _ours,_ and it’s where we could always find each other. I haven’t been in here in years. I remember the night we fought and I told him I was in love with him. The night he broke my heart. And of course the man is thoughtful enough to want to make a new memory here. A much, much, happier memory. My first instinct as I step closer to him is to shout out ‘ _YES!_ ’ but I stifle the impulse, wanting to see his plan through.

“Clarke.”

I smile, “Bellamy.”

He takes a deep breath. “Happy Birthday.”

I nod with a laugh, “You already told me that this morning.”

He tilts his head to the side, “I can still say it again. And it’s still your birthday.”

I shrug, “Fair point. Then, thank you.”

“That’s not why I brought you here, though.”

I press my lips together, and shake my head, trying to suppress the excitement that’s roiling through me.

He chuckles, “Fuck… I had this long speech prepared. And I just fucking forgot it all because you walked in here, and I saw you, and you’re fucking stunning…”

I huff a laugh as I look down at myself, “Your sister dressed me. Like I was her life-size Barbie Doll.”

He grins, “You take my fucking breath away Clarke. And now I forgot what I was going to fucking say...”

I laugh, “Are you trying to set a record for the most uses of the word ‘fuck’ in a proposal speech?”

He laughs again, “How do you know I didn’t plan it like this? Maybe I want you asking sarcastic rhetorical questions like this.”

I shrug casually, “My bad. I should have known.” I step closer to him, almost close enough to touch if I were to reach my arms out. “Maybe you should get back to it, you know, since everything is going to plan and all that.”

He shakes his head, smiling at me like I hung the moon and stars in the sky, “This is why. This is why I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

“Why’s that?”

He smiles and takes my hands in his, “Because you get me. And I get you. You’re the most stubborn person I’ve ever known, besides me. And I fucking love you for it.”

“I love you, too.”

“I’ve got more.”

“We’ve got all night… But these shoes aren’t very comfortable, so maybe just stick to the highlights.”

He laughs, “I love that you’re a genuinely good person, Clarke. And you sometimes hide behind a veil of sarcasm, but I see what and who you really are.”

I tilt my head, “What am I?”

“Kind... And good… And caring. You love deeper than anyone I’ve ever known, and I feel so lucky to be the one you’ve chosen to love.”

I nod, looking up at the ceiling and blinking back a few tears before I look back at him with a smile, “Keep going.”

He chuckles, “So demanding…”

I smirk, “I know what I want.”

He nods, “So do I. When I think about what I want out of my life in fifty years, I want you by my side. I don’t care what the fuck we’re doing. I don’t care where we are. I just want you there.”

“What about when I get all old and saggy?”

He laughs, “I’ll be all old and saggy, too. I want you to be sitting on the porch with me, in a rocking chair or something. And we can yell at kids to get off our lawn.”

I give him a grin, “Bellamy, we already do that. That's like a perfect description of how we spend Saturday mornings.”

He smiles, “Yeah, but we’re not yelling at kids. Usually we’re just yelling at Wick or Murphy.”

I shrug, “Same difference.”

“Then I want to keep doing it when we’re eighty.”

I twist my mouth to the side playfully, “I’ll have put your ass in a nursing home by then.”

He laughs and pulls me close, “As long as you’re there with me.”

I nod with a smile, “I think I could manage that.”

He kisses my forehead then steps away from me, pulling the box out of his pocket. My heart starts to race as he gets down on one knee and opens the box. I can feel my head already nodding.

“Clarke Griffin… Will you be my wife?”

Despite my efforts not to be the stereotypical proposed-to woman, I start crying as I nod frantically, “Oh my god, _Yes…”_ I drop down to sit on his knee as he pulls the ring out of the box. My hands are shaking as he slides it onto my finger, where it fits perfectly. I smile, “You did sapphires. I love sapphires, Bell.”

He nods as he kisses my temple, “I know.”

I laugh, “And it fits! How did you get it to fit?”

He grins, “Alex helped with that, actually.”

I huff, “Of course she did.” I examine it some more, entranced by the figure-eight patterns, grinning at the rope-like shank. “Where did you find something like this? I’ve never seen a ring like this before.”

He smiles, “It's custom. You know, the infinity thing is symbolic of _forever_. And the ropes are just… _you._ Wait until you see the wedding band with it. It looks like a crown, fit for a queen.”

I look at his face and see a shiny brightness in his eyes. “It’s perfect.” I cup his face and press a tender kiss to his lips, “Thank you.”

He laughs as he stands up, picking me up with him, “I’m the one who should say ‘thank you.’ Thank you for saying yes.”

I smirk, “Did you really think I would say no?”

He looks at me thoughtfully, “Clarke, you can always say no.”

I smile with a shake of my head, “Not to this.”

He lets me stand on my feet again, then pulls me into a slow, toe-curling kiss that sends waves of passion and need through me. I break the kiss and press my forehead to his, “Take me home, Bellamy.”

He smiles against my lips, “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seriously, who goes through that much trouble? Bellamy does. Because he's stupid perfect like that. 
> 
> As always, I LOVE getting your REVIEWS/COMMENTS - they pull me out of writing funks on the regular. So you never know how much a few sentences can mean to a writer! Also, it's fun talking with you guys :)
> 
> If you're enjoying this, please leave KUDOS!!!
> 
> THANK YOU ALL so very much for reading!
> 
> \---------
> 
> Update 4/9/16: I'm just re-reading through old chapters and noticed that there's infinity symbols on the ring. In case there was any question, I thought I'd clarify: the infinity symbols on Clarke's ring have no relation to the ALIE program/company/theme on the show. This chapter, actually the first 50 chapters, were written LONG before season 3 started, and I didn't realize the whole infinity symbol thing would be so prominent on the show. So, just know, there's nothing symbolic in terms of connections to the show vs. Clarke's engagement ring.


	45. keep it classy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Engaged sex! 
> 
> [Bellamy POV]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YOU GUYS ARE THE BEST!!! I was so excited by your reaction last chapter - it was really awesome to get all those comments and feedback from you readers :) 
> 
> And, OMFG! ALMOST TO 1000 KUDOS!!! (holy shit) 
> 
> **TRIGGER WARNINGS**  
> General sexual subjugation, erotic humiliation, spanking. You're welcome. ;)
> 
>  
> 
> ~~~~~~~~~~
> 
> A special THANK YOU goes out to Amber for being a wonderful second set of eyes!

After spending an excessive amount of time making out in the music library, Clarke and I eventually pull it together enough to get to the car so we can head home. On our way, I call the guys I hired to clean up the halls of the music school, letting them know they can come and sweep up the petals and get everything back to working order. Clarke sits docilely in the passenger seat, gazing at her ring. It looks perfect on her hand.

I knock on her thigh with my knuckles, “Did you have a good day?”

She smiles, “It was perfect, Bellamy. The only thing that would’ve made it better was you by my side. But this-” she holds up her newly minted ring finger, “-certainly made up for that.” She gazes at it again. “Seriously, this is beautiful. I don’t know how you came up with this.”

I shrug, “It was crazy, the designer I worked with just asked me to tell her about you, and about us. She drew while I talked and then held it up when she was finished. She had actually drawn a few ideas, but this one was the one that stood out.”

“It’s perfect.”

I take her hand in mine and kiss her knuckles, “Good.”

Clarke gasps, “Oh my gosh! I need to tell Alex! And my mom! Or, do they already know?”

“They only knew I was asking. They don’t know you said yes, yet.”

She grins, “Then let’s make some calls. I’m putting us on speaker.”

I feel simultaneously giddy and serene... I have a fiancé, which is something I never thought was in the cards for me. I’m even more astounded that said fiancé is Clarke Griffin… As she dials the phone, she keeps grinning at me with a smile that radiates joy.  

The first call is to Alex, who answers immediately, saying, “DID YOU SAY YES?!”

Clarke laughs, “Jesus, Alex! What if he hadn’t asked yet? You would’ve ruined the whole surprise!”

Alex giggles on the other end, “Really, mom? You were surprised?”

Clarke grins, “I didn’t see it coming earlier in the day, but by the time I was at the music school, I realized something was up.”

Alex barks a laugh, “It took you until the music school?! Goodness, mom.”

“Give me a break! I was in birthday mode! I didn’t suspect anything beyond, and I’ll quote Raven here, ‘a ridiculously over-the-top birthday scavenger hunt.’”

I laugh when Alex says, “Yeah, that sounds like something Raven would say…” After a few moments of silence, Alex busts out, “I’M SO HAPPY!”

Clarke and I both respond, “Us, too.”

“Did you tell Nana, yet?”

Clarke replies, “No, you were our first call.”

“Aww!” Alex sounds exactly like Clarke when she says that. “I’m special.”

I chuckle, “Of course, you’re special.”

Alex giggles again. “Cool. So go plan a wedding so I can have a sister or brother.”

Clarke attempts a stern face, but her voice still smiles, “That’s enough from you, kid. Go to bed.”

I chime in, “If you could see your mom right now…”

Clarke scoffs, “As if your face is any less mortified…”

Alex laughs, “You guys are ridiculous.”

Clarke and I tell her in unison, “We love you, Alex. Sweet dreams.”

“Love you guys, too.”

After the call disconnects, we call Abby. She picks up on the first ring.

“Clarke?”

Clarke’s voice is giddy, “We’re engaged!”

Abby sounds genuinely pleased, “Congratulations, Clarke.” After a second she adds, “And Bellamy, of course. I’m so happy for you both.” There’s some muffled speech coming from her end. “Marcus sends his congratulations, as well.”

I answer, “Thank you, both of you.”

Clarke squeezes my hand and I look over at her to see her mesmerized by the shiny jewel on her finger. I give myself a mental pat on the back for a job well-done in the ring department. “Mom, have you seen the ring?”

“No, I haven’t. I heard about it, though. A pear-cut sapphire. Well-done, Bellamy.”

I smirk, “I do what I can.”

Abby’s voice is amused, “I offered him your grandma’s Harry Winston, but he said he’d already found the perfect ring.”  

Clarke barks a laugh, “He absolutely did. And really, mom? Can you see me wearing the Harry Winston?”

Abby chuckles, “No, not really. I’m glad he got one you like.”

“You’ll see it tomorrow, mom. We’ll be there for dinner, okay?”

Abby replies, “Can’t wait. Love you guys. And congratulations.”

Clarke grins at me when she replies, “Love you too. ‘Night mom.”

After that call is over, Clarke grins, “One, maybe two more calls, then we’ll text everyone else.”

“Octavia and Raven?”

Clarke nods, “Yup. Hopefully they’re together.”

“Yeah, they should be. Raven texted that she was going back to the bar, and O was still there.”

The phone rings and I can hear the roar of a party in the background. Octavia answers with a shriek.

“FUTURE SISTER IN LAW!!!”

Clarke laughs, “God, O. You’re as bad as Alex. Like I told her, I’m glad I called _after_ he proposed, or you would’ve ruined it!”

She’s unapologetic, “Why haven’t you sent me a picture of the ring already?!”

“Bellamy didn’t show it to you?”

Octavia scoffs, “No, the asshole wouldn’t let anyone see it before you got to. Well, your kid got to see it, but that’s only because she was there when he picked it up.”

Clarke shakes her head with a smile and looks over at me thoughtfully, “Well, it’s beautiful and gorgeous and perfect. I’ll send you a picture soon.”

I hear scuffling in the background before Raven’s voice comes on, “Congratulations, guys!”

“Thanks, Rae.”

“Octavia would love to keep talking to you, but I told her she needs to leave you guys alone so you can go bang.”

A dramatized retching sound comes from the background.

Clarke laughs, “Thanks, Raven, Bye!”

I end the call from the buttons on the steering wheel. “Gotta love Raven and her ability to put things so delicately.”

Clarke throws her head back with a groan, “Oh, god, Bellamy. You have no fucking idea.”

I raise an eyebrow, “Oh?”

She chuckles, “Well, first off, she was apparently in the house the whole time you and I were on the phone this morning. And I wasn’t exactly quiet. So she heard all of… _that_.”

An amused grin spreads across my face, “Oh, I’m sure she was considerate and polite about it, right?”

“Oh yeah, because it would be totally within Raven’s character to just let that slide…”

I shake my head with a laugh, “So she crowed about it for a while.”

Clarke nods with a shrug, “Yeah, but _that_ part wasn’t so bad.”

“There were more parts?”

She sighs, “Well, she and Lucas are, um… old acquaintances. Kind of.”

I snort with a disbelieving shake of my head, “No. No way.”

Clarke nods, “Yes, way. And they weren’t work friends, either.”

“So she knows.”

Clarke nods, “Yeah. She knows. And before you ask, the reason you didn’t see each other there was because apparently her time there overlapped with your time ‘away’ from the lifestyle and all that.”

I huff, “Shit.”

Clarke laughs, “Right?”

“So, she’s going to be-”

Clarke cuts me off, “Completely insufferable. But she did say she’d keep her mouth shut.”

“I don’t think she’d say anything.”

“Me either. Bellamy, you should have seen her face…” Clarke laughs, “She looked like a kid on Christmas.”

“I’m sure she did.”

“I promised her I’d give her a more detailed explanation later. On the upside, she gets along famously with Luc and Talia.”

I groan, “Is that _really_ an upside?”

Clarke tilts her head, “At first, I was completely mortified. But after thinking more about it, I don’t mind that she knows. She’s open-minded about it and everything. She saw the marks on my thighs and practically _marveled_ at them. Which is better than recoiling in horror or something.”  

I laugh, “Yeah, that’s good.”

The mood in the car shifts as we pull into our neighborhood. Our need for each other hangs heavy in the air and we’re on the precipice of losing it. The car is quiet, so I can hear her breathing change rhythm as we approach the house. We pull into the garage and I’ve barely put the car in ‘park’ before Clarke is pulling my face into a ravenous kiss. Her mouth is my heroin – It’s like I can’t get enough…

I pull back, “As much as I want to get lost in you right now, let’s take this some place more… not the car.”

She huffs a laugh, “Fair enough.” We tumble out of the car and through the door to the house. Clarke stops to ask, “Wait, where’s Zoe?”

“I had O and Lincoln take her for the night.”

She breathes a sigh of relief, “Thank god…” I remove my coat and hang it in the coat closet. I hold out a hanger for Clarke to do the same, but she shrugs hers off and just lets it fall to the floor, leaving it in a heap on the wood surface. She steps over it as she makes a show of removing her scarf, tossing it carelessly to the other side of the hallway. I drop the hanger, and by the time I hear it clatter on the floor, I’m coming at her.

She shrieks playfully as I close in on her and press her into the wall. Before she can say anything, I slant my mouth over hers and swallow her words with a rousing kiss. I can practically feel sparks of electricity between our lips when we separate for just a moment. She trails her fingers along the buttons of my shirt. She doesn’t unfasten any, just teases her fingers along them. I want to get upstairs already. As hot as it is to fuck each other’s brains out in the hallway, I want to take my time with her tonight. I fully intend to slowly and completely unwrap her like a gift.

I shake my head and lightly smack her hands away. My voice is a light warning, “ _Princess_ …” Clarke smiles in understanding and drops her arms to her sides. I step back and marvel at the automaticity of her response – she straightens her posture and stands calmly, absolutely still in front of me. She doesn’t even _flinch_ under my gaze. This, right here, is stunning evidence that her anxieties disappear under my control… she finds peace in her submission to me.  

 _Fuck,_ I want her in the best and worst ways… I fucking _need_ her.

I smile, “You’re such a good girl for me.” I watch in awe as her entire body shivers at my encouragements.

She gives me a gentle smile, “Yes, Sir.”

“When did you last eat?”

She shrugs, “Um, I ate a bunch of bar food that I snagged when Raven was driving me to the cemetery.”  

“Okay. And water?”

“I should probably drink some.” She chuckles as she follows me to the kitchen. We down a glass of water each, lasciviously raking our gazes up and down each other. The tension grows thick and suddenly I can’t finish drinking fast enough. We dramatically toss our cups into the sink as she crashes into me, threatening my resolve to get her upstairs. I give in almost immediately, meeting her desperation with a frantic force of my own. I lift her onto the kitchen island and she spreads her legs open instinctively for me to step between. My lips chase her neck as she slides backwards and starts to pull me on top of her. It comes to halt as the moment is broken by the crash of several canisters as they fall off the countertop onto the floor.

We both laugh as I pull my head away and manage to tell her, “Upstairs.”

She nods with a smile, “Yeah. Let’s go.” She glides off the counter, exiting the kitchen without even turning to see if I’m following her. The dramatic sway of her hips as she saunters away has the intended effect of making me even harder. I follow quickly behind her. Clarke walks into the bedroom, beckoning me to follow. I close the door behind us and lean back against it for a minute, taking in the view of my fiancé standing in our bedroom. She looks at me over her shoulder and I feel a jolt of arousal shoot through me when I take in her darkened gaze.

I walk toward her, “So it’s your birthday.”

She nods with a grin as she turns back to face me, “So I’m told.”

“So you get to pick. Vanilla or kinky?”

She laughs, “Really?”

“Really.”

“Well, it’s also our engagement. We’re having engaged sex for the first time.”

I smirk, “I didn’t know that was a thing... It’s still your choice.”

She considers this for a moment, “Well, I have a request.”

I close the distance between us and take her hand, absentmindedly brushing her knuckles with my thumb.   “Okay. Tell me.”

She takes a deep breath, “I want to take control. Just for a night. To see what it’s like.”

I grin, “Yeah?”

She nods with a smile, “Would you let me?”

I nod, “Only for you. You want that tonight?”

She shakes her head quickly with a laugh, “No! I need to make plans now. I wasn’t sure if you’d go for it.”

“I’ll do anything for you, Clarke. You have to know that.”

She nods with a sweet smile, “Yeah, I’m realizing that.”

I kiss her forehead, “Good. You still didn’t answer my first question.”

Clarke smiles shyly and looks up at me through hooded eyes and my heart falls into a crazy rhythm. Nothing provokes the Dominant in me like her shy glances and needy expressions. Her voice is soft and gentle, _“Dominate me.”_ I swear to god, this woman makes me feel like my heart might actually explode.

I nod and step back to inspect her. She turns away from me and reaches to her side to unzip her dress. I stop her, my voice deep, “No.” With a gasp, she releases the zipper and freezes her movements. I grasp her wrists and press them back down to her sides. I have to make a concerted effort not to completely ravage her when she moans in response. I reassure her, lips grazing the shell of her ear, “We’ve got all night…” She nods as she leans into me slightly. I bring my hands to the sides of her head to guide her, “Eyes forward. Now.”

I bury my nose in her hair and I can smell the floral essence of her shampoo when I breathe her in deeply. I trail my fingers up her arms and over her shoulders, sweeping her hair to one side to expose the pale flesh of her neck. I remember how marked up I left her last night, and I grin like an asshole when I think of how much makeup she must have had to wear to cover it all up. Her skin looks so… unmarred right now. I feel my cock twitch at the thought of what I’ll find when the makeup comes off.

“Turn around.” My voice is deep, and Clarke’s answering shudder brings a smile to my face. She does as told, meeting my eyes with serenity etched onto her features. Her compliance never fails to blow my mind and it turns me on like nothing else. The most captivating thing Clarke wears is her submission. Don’t misunderstand, she’s a mouthwatering sight when her body is adorned in nipple chains or leather cuffs. But _Clarke_ is unparalleled in her allure, her soul inhabiting this body that she so generously allows me to use, and through it she brings me unparalleled pleasure.

I step away, deciding where I want her next. “Go sit on the bed.” She walks away, then slides onto the mattress and leans back on her arms, waiting patiently while I walk to the edge of the bed. She remains obediently still as my hands explore her smooth legs, caressing her clenching thighs as I reach for the zipper on the side of the dress. I pull the zipper down painstakingly slowly, watching as her fingers twitch, the only indication of her growing impatience. I wonder how far I can push her like this. How long before she snaps?

“I haven’t seen you wear this before.”

She shrugs, “I haven’t. Octavia picked it out when she was dressing me.”  

“It looks beautiful on you,” I tell her as my hands travel to her knees, caressing the sensitive skin behind them.  

“Thank You.” Her smile becomes sultry, “Right now, I’m thinking it’d look better on the floor.”

I nod, “Agreed…” I drag my open palms back up her thighs, gathering the fabric of the dress with them. She lifts her hips up off the mattress and I pull the dress over her head, leaving her in only her lacy bra and underwear.

She smirks at my darkened expression, “You like me in lace, don’t you. The dress…” she gestures to her lingerie, “all this…” I nod calmly as I rake my eyes over her body, halting at her bruise-covered thighs. She continues, “And seeing all your marks on me… it makes you hard, doesn’t it?”  

I smile, “What can I say, it looks fucking incredible on you.”  

She smiles, “Noted.”

I reach behind her to unhook her bra before I push her down into the mattress, trailing my lips over her skin as I make my way up her body. I can’t resist taking a gentle bite over her ribs and I grin at the surprised gasp-laugh that escapes her. I bite down harder and revel in her moans. When I glance up at her, I’m taken aback all over again by the abundant trust in her eyes. I move so my face hovers above hers and my prop myself up on my forearms. We gaze into each other’s eyes for what feels like forever and not long enough. I find in her eyes love. Peace. Tranquility.

“I love you, Clarke… So fucking much.”

“I love you, too.” After a few moments, she grins, “Hey, you know what?”

I laugh, “What?”

“We’re getting married, Bellamy.”

I can’t hide the broad smile on my face, “Yeah. We’re getting fucking married.”

She throws her head back against the pillows and laughs, “I’ve noticed we frequently-slash-constantly work the word ‘fuck’ into sappy situations.” I frown, unsure if this is a bad thing. She chuckles, “I love it.”

I brush my fingers over her soft cheeks, “Good. Because I don’t think it’s fucking going anywhere.”

She laughs again, “Just… let’s try and keep it out of the vows, okay?”

“Of course. We have keep it classy.”

She nods with an amused expression, “Yeah. Classy.”

 

I drop my head down and slant my mouth over hers. I kiss her deeply, thoroughly, completely. I pour into her my dominance, draw out her submission. I rise to my knees and take a moment to examine her body. The one she’s given to me, the one she lets me use… however the hell I want. Being fully clothed above her while she writhes nearly naked below me sends a surge of ascendency through me, and I want nothing more than to control every little thing she feels next. I hook a finger under the band of her bra and pull it off of her body, exposing her soft breasts. Her hands rush to them immediately, not to cover herself, but to start tweaking and pulling at them.

I grab her wrists in mine with a bruising grip, shaking my head in admonishment. “This is _my_ playtime, Princess…” She nods and bites her lip timidly. She knows damn well what she’s doing. Every submissive gesture she makes brings out more of the animalistic Dominant inside of me. She’s manipulating me to her will as much as I’m molding her to mine. And I fucking love her for it. I tilt my head to the side and trail my fingers along her body, filled with satisfaction as I study the twitches and gooseflesh that erupt behind them. “You’ve given this body to me. It’s mine. And I’m going to do with it what I want.”

She nods with a shiver, “Yes, Sir.”

I continue, “This body will be touched when _I_ want it to be touched, and not a second before.” She casts her eyes down, another passive and docile gesture that she knows drives me fucking _wild_. “Are you going to touch yourself?”

She shakes her head, “Only if you tell me to, Sir.”

“Good girl.” I move off of her so that I’m no longer straddling her, “Now roll over and take your panties off for me.” She turns over onto her stomach and makes a fucking show of her task. She hooks her thumbs under the band of the lacy garment and arches her back as she slowly slides them down over her ass and thighs. She kicks them the rest of the way down and hooks them onto her toe to toss them my direction. I catch them with a smirk and bring them to my face to inhale her arousal, eliciting a groan from her at the obscene gesture. “Princess, your panties are completely soaked.” I wipe them up her spine, making sure she can feel how saturated they are. “You feel that? You’re so fucking _wet_ for me.” She wiggles her ass and I grab onto it harshly with both hands, letting her panties fall to the wayside so I can squeeze the flesh with my greedy fingers. “This beautiful ass is mine tonight.”

She turns to face me and narrows her eyes as she bites out, “Don’t tease me, Bellamy… unless you’re gonna follow through.”

I freeze my ministrations but don’t remove my hands from her ass. I clear my throat, “Excuse me? That sounded disturbingly like an order, Princess.”

She shakes her head, “No!” A flash of worry crosses her eyes and she looks away, “I’m sorry, Sir.”

“Princess…” I shake my head in contrived sympathy as I soften my grip on her ass, “What did I tell you about trying to order me around in here?”

She sighs, “That you would spank me next time I tried, Sir.”

“Do you want a spanking?”

She shakes her head quickly, “No, Sir.”

I shrug as I rake my eyes over her naked form, “That’s too bad. You broke a rule. You’ve earned a punishment.”

“What… kind?”

I chuckle, “You’re worried I’ll deny you an orgasm tonight, aren’t you?”

She nods carefully.

I smile, “Don’t worry. It’s your birthday, so I won’t be _that_ cruel... I am going to spank you, though. Hand to bare bottom.” She closes her eyes in defeat but nods in assent. Clarke loves a “funishment” but that’s not what she’ll be getting here. She has a lesson to learn, _again_. She hates-loves the humiliation of being spanked over my lap like a bratty child.

I stand up to walk over to the armless chair across the room and sit down. I wave her over, “Now crawl over here. On your hands and knees.” She averts her eyes as she slides down off the bed, then drops to her hands and knees to crawl over to me. _Fuck,_ the image in front of me turns me on to an obscene degree. I actually hear myself growl. A subservient Clarke is absolutely _intoxicating_ and I feel like I’m fighting a war within me just to keep myself from ravaging her right now. When she finally reaches me, I pat her head and she leans into my hand. “Come on, now. Lay yourself over my lap.”

She nods, “Yes, Sir.”

She crawls up onto my lap and bends herself forward over my thighs. I’m right-handed, so she’s lying so her head is to my left and I shift her until her ass is over my right thigh. She squeezes her thighs together and locks her knees so they’re straight. Her attempt to cover her most intimate parts is laughable. I chuckle, “Nice try, Princess. If you were so concerned with modesty, you shouldn’t have gotten yourself spanked to begin with.” I press my palm behind her knees so that they bend and tuck themselves out of the way. With my other hand, I press her head and shoulders down so that her ass is turned up for perfect access. She squeezes her thighs together again, which isn’t going to fly. “You’re _still_ trying hide your cunt, Princess?”

She just groans in response, hating that she was caught.

“You don’t want me to see how wet you get, do you?”

She shakes her head wordlessly. I pry her knees apart and press on her to arch her back, her front curving itself into my thighs. The outcome is full and vulgar exposure of her pussy lips. I take a few moments to appreciate the woman in my lap, bent over in complete compliance and surrender. I grab and knead my fingers into her ass cheek with my left hand to part her cheeks and labia as far as possible. I gasp at the gush of wetness that escapes when she’s opened up. I haven’t even touched her yet, and she’s literally dripping into my lap.

“Jesus… You should fucking see this, Princess.” I sink one finger, then two into her, displacing more of her seeping arousal. “Fuck… You are so. God. Damn. Wet.” I punctuate each word with a thrust of my finger. She just groans and ducks her head farther between her shoulders. “You love to be degraded and humiliated, don’t you?”

She groans but doesn’t reply.

I pull my fingers out of her pussy and spank her over her labia. She squeals as her body tenses up in my lap. I plunge my fingers back into her drenched heat, “When I ask you a question, you answer me.”

She nods, “Okay.”

I sigh and pull my hand back out to smack her ass, “And you will address me with respect.”

She shudders, “Yes, Sir.”

“Answer the question. I won’t repeat myself again.”

She stutters, “W-what was the question, Sir?”

I snort, “Seriously? You forgot already? What did I tell you about repeating myself?” She sighs in embarrassment, “For fuck’s sake, Princess. I’m even having to repeat myself _about not repeating myself…_ Unbelievable.”

“I’m sorry! It’s hard to-” She shudders with a mewl as I plunge three of my fingers back into her, “It’s hard to think straight when I want you to fuck me so bad.”

I huff an annoyed laugh, “My question was,” I twist my fingers around inside of her, stretching and massaging her inner walls, “Do you crave degradation?”

She nods fervently, “Yes, Sir. It gets me… wet.”

I laugh, “That’s the fucking truth… You’re a kinky little slut, aren’t you?”

She nods fervently, “Mmm hmm.” I feel her giggle as she answers.

“Is something funny, Princess?”

She shakes her head, “No, Sir. I just really, _really_ want you to fuck me.” She giggles again, “I’m laughing at myself because it’s completely pathetic how badly I want you right now.”

I rub the heel of my hand up and down her spine before I return to her cheeks to massage the skin and stimulate the blood vessels to open up. The increased blood flow creates a cushion of sorts for the area I’m about to beat, enabling me to spank her longer. “Spanking first.”

“Yes, Sir.”

With my left hand, I get a firm grasp onto her waist above her hip, with my elbow lodged between her shoulder blades. This is to minimize her squirming, which she’s prone to do. I raise my right knee a little higher to raise her ass and turn it up a little more. I remind myself that I can’t exactly unleash on her, since her skin is still incredibly bruised up from last night. I lay a few soft smacks to her bottom and she sighs in response. I land the next slaps harder. The sound of my skin striking hers is electrifying, and her pained moans are making me impossibly hard. I know she can feel how turned on I am. Good. I smack a few more times before I pause again to grasp onto the flesh of her rounded ass, kneading and pulling on it. The next smack is harsh and painful. She swings her arm behind to cover herself, so I pin it to her lower back with my anchoring hand. I continue the pattern, smacks then caresses and fondling, the smacks getting harder and more plentiful until she’s crying. I intersperse medium-intensity slaps to break up the harshness, which enables her to tolerate more. I move to her thighs and she squirms more, so I have to hold her down a little more firmly. When I strike her inner thighs, she shrieks.

“Oh, Fuck! More… _Please_!”

Well, that was… unexpected. Her tone is downright brazen with want. Slightly confused, I return to massaging her skin. “Please what? What do you need?”

“More, Sir. And higher.” She spreads her legs open wide.

“You want me to spank your cunt?”

She nods, “Yes, please, Sir.”

I spank her inner thighs a little longer, slowly making my way up to her pussy, which is nearly gushing at this point. The wet spot where her fluids are gathering on my pants has grown from a quarter-sized dot to a blemish as wide as a grapefruit. And it’s _still_ fucking coming. I lightly smack her cunt and it makes a harsh slapping sound as my hand meets her wetness. She groans with appreciation and tilts her ass farther up, opening herself wider. The way she presents herself to me is making it really fucking hard to control myself. At this point, I have to make a rigorous effort to not throw her over my shoulder and get back to the bed so I can fuck the shit out of her. I take a deep breath to regain some semblance of control before returning to her pussy, landing a few more blows to her lips. I stop to push three fingers into her, smiling at the groan she releases when I massage her inner walls. I land more strikes to her cunt, varying the intensity of the slaps, then massaging her again.

“You’re being so good for me.”

She nods, “I’m trying, Sir.”

“You took your punishment well. I think you deserve an orgasm.”

She nods fervently, “Yes, PLEASE!” I chuckle, amused. She continues, “I think I can come if you keep spanking my pussy, Sir.” She nervously adds, “I mean, if you want… Sir.”

I oblige, landing quick light whacks to her pussy lips as she angles her hips even higher, exposing her clit to the strikes. While still spanking her swelling pussy with my right hand, I move my other hand from her waist to the apex of her thighs. I insert three fingers easily, so I add a fourth, just to try it. _That’s_ when her whimpers become throaty, undeniably aroused moans.

“Princess, have you ever been fisted?”

She whimpers, “No, Sir.” Her breaths come in short pants, “Are you going to do that now?”

I tilt my head with a chuckle, “Physically, you’re more than ready for it.” She moans and pops her ass up to egg me on. “No, not yet. We’re gonna talk about it first… when I’m _not_ fucking you with my fingers.” She whimpers with my words and I bend forward to whisper in her ear. “But when it happens, you’re gonna feel so fucking good, Princess.”

I continue my ministrations, massaging her cunt with one hand, slapping her clit with the other. “Oh god! I feel so full...” She’s writhing in my lap, every movement rubbing my painfully hard cock. “Oh fuck, I’m gonna-” She cuts herself off with a groan before she controls herself again, “Please, can I come?!”

I growl, “Come for me, Princess.” I strike her cunt as her entire body stiffens, then shudders as waves of pleasure crash through her. I stop the slaps and instead massage her pussy lips, avoiding her oversensitive swollen clit because I can see it throbbing as the muscles around it contract and release. It’s a mesmerizing sight.

After she’s recovered from her orgasm, I coax her up to straddle my lap. I brush the hair out of her face, “You did so well.”

She nods with a satisfied smile, “Thank you, Sir.”

“You still want me to fuck you?”

She licks her lips hungrily, “Yes, Sir.”

I chuckle and squeeze her ass, “Good.” I push her gently up off my lap, then stand up to loom over her. She looks up at me with an expression that is simultaneously lustful and wary. When she brushes her tongue lightly over her lips and bats her eyelashes, an unstoppable predatory instinct surges through me. I grab her chin with my hand and pull her mouth to mine, plunging my tongue inside of her in an undeniably dominant gesture. I wrap my free arm behind her back and pull her into me, grinding my hips into her abdomen. I break the kiss, almost embarrassed by my heaving breaths, “Do you feel how fucking hard you make me?”

She closes her eyes with a blissful smile on her face as she nods before I capture her lips again. I back her up to the bed, then pick her up so I can drop her onto the mattress. She sits up with a smirk and begins to claw at the buttons on my shirt. I shake my head and trap her wrists in my hands, “Feisty, Princess…”

Clarke’s facial expression is practically animalistic. She grunts in irritation as she stares at my chest so hard she looks like she might be trying to make holes in it. “I _need_ -” She sighs with a petulant whine. She won’t even meet my eyes, just shamelessly rakes her gaze over my body.

I furrow my brows in feigned confusion, “Are you gonna finish that thought, Princess?” I lean into her slightly with a smirk, “What do you need?”  

She releases a lecherous moan, like the most primal part of her brain has taken over, completely unconcerned about the fact that she’s behaving like a wanton slut right now. She pulls her arms away from me in an attempt to get out of my grip. I release one hand, curious what she’ll do with it. I’m not even remotely surprised when it immediately finds her pussy. I bark out a laugh as I grasp her wrist again, pulling it away from her heat, “Don’t even try it.” I push her into the mattress so she’s lying flat on her back and she responds with an exasperated cry.

I hold her firmly against the mattress, “Use your words, Princess. What do you need?”

Her cry is piercing, “I need you!” She blinks, like she’s surprised by her own outburst.

I chuckle, “You done? Or do I need to keep holding you down?”

The edges of her lips tug up in a smirk, “I’m good now.” I swear her voice drops an octave as her gaze becomes lustful, “But really, feel free to keep holding me down.”

Then it’s like animal instinct just takes us over. Buttons fly off to every corner of the room as I tear my dress shirt off my frame. I’m _almost_ (but not at all) surprised when she rips the undershirt, splitting it right down the middle. Normally she’s all about getting the pants off, but tonight, she’s absorbed in my upper half.

She explores my torso with her mouth while her hands travel greedy paths along my arms. “Are you doing more weights at the gym or something?”

I shake my head with a chuckle as I divest myself of my pants, “Nothing more than the usual.”

Clarke’s growl sends another rush of blood straight to my dick, and the freedom of being uncaged is a relief so beautiful it’s almost painful. Once the pants are off, her focus shifts down south. She makes a hilarious attempt to suck my cock as she bends forward, nearly falling off the bed as she loses her balance. I catch her with a chuckle, but it gives me an idea.

I grasp her face by jaw and pull her up to look at me. My thumbs and fingers travel to her lips of their own accord, “Your face is so fucking beautiful.” She looks fucking drunk on my words.

She nods with a plastered smile on her face, “Yeah? You gonna do something with it for once?”

I growl, knowing she’s referring to the face-fucking she’s been literally begging for since the orgy. “You gonna keep mouthing off?” She shrugs and turns her face up to the ceiling, pretending she doesn’t give a shit. Brat. Still gripping her jaw, I wrench her face back down to look at me. “I asked you a question.”

She gives me a wicked glare, “I thought you didn’t want me to _mouth off_ at you?”

I raise an eyebrow, “You can answer the question without mouthing off, Princess.”

She rolls her eyes again with an obnoxious smirk, “I don’t think I can, Sir.”

I huff, “Well, I _was_ gonna fuck your face. But if you don’t want me to...” my voice trails off and I let go of her jaw.

She panics as I step back, “NO!” She grasps frenziedly onto my arms and pulls me back to her, “I think you should find a way to shut me up…” She looks down, then bats her eyelashes up at me timidly, “… _Sir._ ” Her voice is quiet and shy, which is almost laughable, considering that her actions are motivated by the fact that she is the actual _opposite_ of “shy.” She knows _exactly_ how to get me going, and I’m not ashamed to say that her compliant gestures, no matter how transparent, are unquestionably effective in getting what she wants.

I snort with feigned disdain, “Oh, I see… You just want to be a hole for me to fuck, Princess?”

She nods as she worries her bottom lip between her teeth. Then she smirks, “That would probably be a good way to stop me from _mouthing off_ , Sir.” The disciplinarian in me wants to deny her this because she’s being so obviously manipulative. But a blowjob from Clarke? Fuck discipline…

“On your back.” She looks briefly confused as she rolls over so she’s facing the ceiling, then I grab her arms and drag her toward me so her head is hanging off the edge of the mattress. She gives me a naughty grin as I command, “Lick me.” I think she’s watched enough porn to know exactly what I want. And _holy fuck_ she knows what she’s doing. She licks a strong line from my tip to my base, drawing a gratified moan out of me. My knees nearly buckle when she gently sucks my balls into her hot mouth, one by one. She brings her hands up to stroke me, but I grab onto them and place them on my hips instead. “No hands. Mouth only.” She nods carefully with her mouth still around my balls, and the sensation is fucking blissful.

She moans in response to my unrestrained groan, which feels, _fuck_ , sublime. She shifts her focus to my shaft again, dragging her tongue from the base until I stop her at the head. I smirk as I push her jaw wide with a finger to her chin, “Now open up and take me.” The woman can deep-throat with the best of them, but this is a new angle, so I try my best to be gentle at first. She gags a little bit as the head of my cock meets her throat, and the monster in me revels in her struggles. She pushes back on my legs, but I shake my head with a growl, “ _All_ of me.”  I have to hold myself back as she flutters her tongue around me. 

"Open your eyes and look at me, Princess."  I lean to the side to get a glimpse of her face under my cock and I can see the edges of a fierce glare as she relaxes her throat and accepts my entire length.   Clarke has never been one to back down from a challenge… I look at the contour of my cock in her throat as she obediently swallows, and it’s fucking _magical_ to look at.

“Fuck, I can _see_ my cock in your neck... You're hot as hell, Princess.  You’re such a good girl, swallowing all of me like this... Such a fucking good girl…”

She can’t make a sound, since her airway is completely blocked off like this. I pull out slightly and she catches a desperate breath in before I plunge back into her. I can hear the voraciousness in the noises escaping me as I fuck into her ravenous throat, and it isn’t long before I’m ready to blow my load. As much as I’d like to shoot my cum down her throat, tonight I want to come inside the warmth of her cunt.

“ _Fuck_ , Princess…” I grit out in a strangled moan, “Gotta stop…” I pull my cock out of her mouth and she makes a whimpering sound in its absence. Tears and saliva are dripping down the sides of her face, and shit _,_ she’s fucking _stunning_ like this. I help her sit up and face me, overcome by lust as I see how utterly _fucked_ she looks. I immediately take her mouth with my own, plunging my tongue back into her like I’m fucking her with it. She sucks on my tongue like she sucked on my cock, and the reminder of that heavenly sensation – her warm mouth drawing such profound ecstasy out of me – nearly does me in. I pull my head back to look at her and her body shines with the sheen of sweat. I reach for my torn-up undershirt to wipe the makeup off her sweat-soaked neck so I can get a good look at the beautifully tarnished skin.  

I release a carnal growl when I examine my marks as they litter her skin. I know this _want_ I have for her, this covetous compulsion to _own_ her, is sick on some level, but I can’t bring myself to care. Not when she wants it just as badly. The brute inside me is absolutely delighted by the discolored skin, knowing it’s _my_ doing.

“Fuck… these make me crazy.”

Clarke’s voice is coarse, still recovering from the thorough throat-fucking she just got, “Imagine being the one to wake up wearing these every morning…”

I huff against her neck, “Tell me what it’s like, Princess… Tell me _exactly_ what they do to you.”

She pauses for a moment before she answers me. She smiles as she touches her hands to one of the hickeys, and I feel a twinge of satisfaction that she’s memorized exactly where that mark is. When she trails her fingers in a pattern connecting the others, that gratified _twinge_ evolves into a _surge_.

“When I look into the mirror in the mornings, or the evenings, or sometimes accidentally, if my makeup comes off…” She trails off, as if she got lost in a memory.

I tap lightly her cheek, “Keep going.”

She chuckles, “Oh... Well, I see all the bruises on my skin. And for a while, like at the beginning, I used to kind of freak out because I thought it looked like disfigurements or something... But, you know, then I started to like them…” She tangles her fingers in my hair, “And eventually, I grew to love them… Because they remind me of you.” She sighs as I kiss some of them, “And now I need them.”

I pull my head back and cock my head to the side in question, “Need them?”

She nods, “I need them because they make me feel… safe. Because you gave them to me.”

I tilt her head to the side so I can get a better look at them, “They’re mine…”

She nods, “Yeah. They’re yours. Like I’m yours…” She grins, “And that’s why _you_ like them so much.”

I nod with a smirk, “Yeah… Because I’m evolved like that.”

She laughs, “Right, _evolved_ …” A smirk graces her features, “You’re such a caveman.”

“Yeah, but I’m _your_ caveman.”

She nods resolutely, “Damn right.” She gives me a seductive grin, “You know what else your marks do to me?”

I breathe against her neck, “Tell me.”

“I see them and it makes me so… fucking… wet.” Something about the way her gaze locks onto mine causes my brain to short-circuit, and I am driven again by the urge to consume and _be_ consumed by her. I snap out of it when she wraps her hand around my cock. My hips involuntarily thrust into her hand and she grins at my waning control.

I nod toward the head of the bed, “Get up there.” She scoots farther up the mattress and I follow her until my body covers hers. She spreads her legs to accommodate me and I settle between the cradle of her hips.

“I need you inside of me.” Her plea sends a jolt of desperation through me and I waste no time in obliging her. She knows exactly how to angle her hips to meet me, we’ve perfected the art of a hands-free coupling... I cradle the crown of her head protectively in the crook of my elbow as I thrust home, overwhelmed by the slick tightness of her walls around me. Her legs wrap around me and I lift my head up to look at her face, watching the ecstasy surge through her as she gasps with pleasure.

“ _Fuck_ … You feel so fucking good.” She gasps and I smile at the way she bites her lip while her body welcomes me into her. “So. Fucking. Good.” I grind my pelvis against her clit, relishing the way her walls squeeze around me in response. I don’t know who moves first, but in no time at all, we’re moving together in a delicious sinuous rhythm. Before I know it, I’m thrusting erratically into her, nearing the edge, and there’s no way I’m about to let myself come this soon. I still our movements, much to her chagrin.

“ _Bellamy…”_ She whines, bucking her hips into mine.

I growl as I pin her body down to keep her still, “This is gonna be over _real_ soon if you keep that up.”

Clarke grumbles in protest but relents. She rakes her fingernails over the skin on my back and I capture her lips in a desperate kiss, trying to distract myself from the bliss of her warmth around me. I get lost in her, and soon she’s trying to move against my hips (a difficult endeavor when she’s pinned so tightly underneath me). I lift myself up enough to hook my elbows behind her knees, then press her thighs to the sides of her chest, spreading her wide open underneath me. I slide my arms behind her back and squeeze her legs into her sides as I snap my hips into her again her again. This is one of the many times Clarke’s yoga-induced flexibility works to our benefit.

Clarke gasps, “Oh my _god_ … holy shit!”

I pause the thrusts, “Is that a good ‘holy shit?’”

She nods frenetically, her breaths heaving as she answers, “Jesus, fuck, _yes…_ I’m trapped… in the best possible way… Now _please! Fuck me!_ ” I gladly comply, reveling in her cries of how deep I am inside of her, how full she feels, and please don’t stop. Her walls start to flutter around me and her body tenses up, “Oh god, I need to come!”

I stop thrusting, “Soon, Princess. Not. Yet.” I afford her some respite as I switch up the position. In a surprising show of strength, I rise to a kneeling position, keeping myself firmly lodged within her warmth with my elbows still hooked under her knees, my arms crushing her thighs to her ribcage, her calves dangling from the crook of my elbows. I sit back on my heels and spread my knees apart for leverage. I thrust up into her so forcefully that her entire body is practically bouncing on my cock. The cries that escape her are categorically licentious as I snake a hand up to fist into her hair. I pull back roughly to expose her neck to me so I can darken my favorite hickey at the junction of her neck and collarbone. Clarke takes the opportunity to tangle her fingers in my hair, tugging when she likes something. I can feel the white heat winding at the base of my spine, but I need Clarke to come first.

My voice is a strangled groan, “Come for me, Clarke. I wanna feel you come around me, NOW!”

She voices a desperate “ _Thank you!”_ as her pussy clamps down rhythmically around my cock, prompting my own orgasm. I bury myself to the hilt, releasing everything I have as deeply as possible inside of her while the contractions of her walls milk my cock for everything I have.

She whimpers, completely sated for now. “Bell, when we make babies, this is what you have to do. Keep yourself deep inside of me. Let our bodies do the work. Okay?”

I huff a light laugh before I surge into her to kiss her so deeply, so wild that my toes curl. I let her down and follow her back down to the mattress so I’m on top of her again. Miraculously, I’m still balls-deep inside of her. The thought of Clarke carrying my child does something crazy to the beat of my heart. Once we’ve slowed down some, I grin against her mouth, “I can’t fucking _wait_ to knock you up, Clarke.”

She smiles sweetly as she cards her fingers into my hair, “Me, either.”

I grin, “Is there a _reason_ you brought that up right now?”

She shakes her head, “No. I just really want our babies.”

I smirk, “Does Clarke Griffin have a biological clock?”

She shrugs, “I wouldn’t call this a biologically-driven imperative. When I think of ‘biological clocks,’ I think of people just wanting to procreate. That’s not what I’m feeling here. I really fucking want to meet _our_ children, Bellamy.”

I nod, my heart fucking _racing_ , “So do I.”

She whispers, “I want to have the IUD removed.”

The corners of my mouth quirk up in an excited grin, “Yeah?”

She nods shyly, “Yeah.” After a moment she continues, “I mean, there’s the wedding, so we have to think about that. But I want kids. I want to be married. I want to call you my husband. My concern for the actual wedding is… minimal.”

My heart is surging with love for this woman, “I can’t wait want to call you my wife.”

She smiles, “I mean, we should do some kind of ceremony. You know, appease friends and family. But I don’t want to make a spectacle of it, you know? Something simple.”

I nod, “I like simple.”

“Preferably something we can put together quickly. Because if do get pregnant before the wedding, we have to move quickly on the planning and all that. I want to be able to have a honeymoon without waddling around.”

“You’re still hot when you’re pregnant.”

She smacks at my chest, “Eye of the beholder and shit… Regardless, I was uncomfortable as hell toward the end of Alex’s pregnancy. Once I reach the ‘abdomen exploding’ stage, I want to be able to put my feet up and rest, not worry about traveling.”

“That makes sense.”

She sighs peacefully, “I’m too wiped out to do the math right now. Post-orgasm math is not really… accurate. So can we figure out the logistics later?”

I kiss her gently, “Yeah, later.”

Her contagious grin returns, “We’re gonna do this. We’re gonna make a baby.”

I smile, “We’re gonna make a fucking baby.”  

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bellarke babies!!!! They will happen! But first, we've gotta meet the Linctavia twins... And of course, we can look forward to all the baby-making they'll be working on in the future. Eventually. Like, they've got more kink to explore themselves before bringing babies into the mix... 
> 
> And here is where I plea for COMMENTS and KUDOS! They really do wonders for my motivation ;) I love hearing what you guys think! 
> 
> I'm so happy to hear from you guys, and your feedback means the world to me! 
> 
> Come find me on [tumblr](http://missemarissa.tumblr.com/)!


	46. he can be a dick all he wants, i'll still climb him like a tree

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We re-visit the Linctavia pregnancy :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FIRST: As always, THANK YOU GUYS SO MUCH FOR YOUR PHENOMENAL RESPONSE AND SUPPORT!!! I enjoyed delving into Bellamy's psyche in that last chapter, and I was really pleased with the reader response. 
> 
> And, OMFG! I hit a thousand kudos! That made me do a happy dance! 
> 
> Sorry, this update took a little while - I had to go back and rewrite and rewrite (and rewrite again) to make the medical terminology and procedures "understandable," and I'm still not sure I've succeeded. I may end up going back and revising it more to clarify obstetric medical concepts...
> 
> Also, for some masochistic reason, I started yet another fic: [I'll give you all kinds of new material](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4890298). This time, Bellamy is a porn star (woot!), and smut ensues. You should totally go check it out if you haven't already. It was gonna be a one-shot, but after multiple requests to expand on it, that's happening. Also, life has been busy this fall... So my apologies for things taking so long to update ~ I appreciate your patience!

Octavia is coming in this morning for a prenatal visit. As of today, she’s 32 weeks along. She’s been on bedrest since the day after Bellamy and I got engaged, which was just over 30 weeks into the pregnancy. She’s been a perfect specimen of health so far, with the exception of the fact that she’s got a poorly-placed placenta. She hasn’t had any bleeding, and we want to keep it that way. To be honest, Walsh and I were being lenient letting her avoid bedrest for as long as we did. Regardless, she hates it. Bellamy has had more than a few calls from his sister, grumbling, “It’s because of _your_ fiancé’s order that I’m stuck here. Lincoln is away for work, so now it’s your duty as my loving brother to come and entertain me.” Bellamy has no problem admitting that he loves the time they spend together, and tells me as much every time he comes back from Octavia’s.

As usual for Octavia’s appointments, I take a back seat until someone wants me to speak up. Because of my involvement with the family, Walsh is the primary physician for these visits, but at O’s request, I’m on the treatment team. I follow behind Walsh when he walks in with a broad smile and greets the parents-to-be with warm handshakes. “Octavia, Lincoln. It’s good to see you both.” I take a seat near O while Dr. Walsh takes a seat in the rolling stool. “How are you guys doing?”      

Octavia and Lincoln hold each other’s hands, and I can’t help but smile at Lincoln’s protective palm spread out over his wife’s expanding belly.

Octavia answers, “Besides hating bedrest, we’re all doing great.” She pats softly at her stomach before interlacing her fingers with Lincoln’s.

Walsh gives her an apologetic look, “I’m sorry about the bedrest, but it’s-”

Octavia finishes his sentence for him, “-necessary, I know. It’s just hard because I’ve always been an active person. So sitting at home in bed all day starts to wear on me, you know?”

Walsh nods, “I can imagine you’re really frustrated right now.”

Octavia shrugs with a sigh, “I just remind myself that it’s for the boys, and that makes it a little easier.”

“Have you guys picked out any names yet?”

Octavia grins, “We haven’t settled on any at this point, but we’re working on narrowing the list down.”   If anyone has the stamina to raise twin boys, it’s Octavia and Lincoln.

“We’ve been going through your most recent sonography images, and the babies’ development has been fantastic. The two of them have been growing at similar rates, meaning neither is significantly bigger than the other. We like that because it means that they’re both getting an equal and adequate blood supply.”

Octavia nods, “That’s good. Are they, like, normal sizes?”

Walsh nods, “For twins, yes. They’re growing at a rate we would expect, which is another good thing.”  

Lincoln asks, “How is the placenta thing?”

Walsh tilts his head to the side, “We looked at your placental MRI studies and confirmed that it is, in fact, embedded in your uterus. But, now that we’re able to see more clearly where and how deeply it’s embedded, Dr. Griffin and I been able to determine that Octavia is a candidate for what we call _conservative management_.”

Lincoln frowns while Octavia asks, “What is that?”

Walsh nods at me, “It’s what Dr. Griffin here has specialized training in. I’m sure you know she’s one of the foremost obstetrical surgeons in the country, specifically because of her mastery of this procedure.”

Octavia’s mouth gapes open then she smiles at me, “No, Clarke did not tell me she was a rock star!”

I feel myself blushing. Sometimes my accomplishments still feel like they belong to another version of me. Like, I have yet to internalize them.

Walsh asks me, “Do you want to explain it, Dr. Griffin?”

I nod, “Sure.” I clear my throat before starting. “Well, it’s different from the standard treatment for placenta accreta, which would be complete removal of the uterus after a C-section delivery of the babies. Obviously in that scenario, you’d be unable to have more children.”

Octavia perks up, “Are you saying that there’s another option?”

“Well, based on your scans, there’s the possibility that we can avoid a hysterectomy, which could preserve your fertility.”

Octavia nods slowly, “How is that possible? I thought it was a lost cause or something.”

I smile gently, “Let’s not call it a lost cause. Now, please keep in mind that this is a very fragile situation, and it might come to needing a hysterectomy.” Octavia nods in acknowledgement and I continue, “In a normal pregnancy, after the babies come out, the placenta detaches from the uterine wall so it can be delivered. But, because your placenta has grown into your uterus, that obviously can’t happen without causing a life-threatening hemorrhage. What Walsh and I would do is called one-step conservative surgery. We call it ‘conservative’ because the goal is to conserve the function of your uterus, and hopefully your fertility.”

Octavia and Lincoln squeeze their hands together and smile. She asks, “What needs to happen?”

“Well, with the placental MRI, we have been able to map the blood vessels that feed each ‘sector’ of the ‘invasion.’”

Octavia laughs, “It sound like an alien invasion of my uterus.”

After we share a laugh, I continue, “In the surgery, I methodically ‘ligate’ or tie off each vessel that’s formed between the embedded portion of the placenta to the uterus and bladder. We figure out exactly which ones by studying the hell out of your pMRI. This step is lengthy because of how meticulously I go about this.” I study their faces, trying to discern if they are understanding what I’m saying. “At this point, the babies are still inside. I’m not cutting off the main blood supply, just the ‘problem vessels.’” I pause a second, trying to remember not to be to ‘jargon-y’ to my patients. “Do you need me to describe this less ‘medically?’”

Octavia shakes her head, “So far, what I’m hearing is that you’re going to go in and cut off the blood supply to the bad parts of the placenta while the babies are still inside me.”

I nod, “Exactly.”

Octavia sighs, “It sounds scary.”

“Yeah, I imagine it does.”

She has a faraway look on her face, “Like, you’re going to cut into me. Through every layer of my body. Then you’re gonna poke around inside of me?”

I tilt my head to the side, “To put it bluntly, yes.”

Octavia huffs a laugh, “Well, now that that’s established… Continue.”

I give her a careful look before I go on. “Okay. Once I’m finished tying off the problem vessels, I begin a specialized cesarean delivery to gently deliver the babies one at a time.”

Lincoln clears his throat, “Has this been done with twins before?”

“This exact procedure?” He nods in response.

I clear my throat, “It’s very rare, but the literature exists and it’s been successful before.”

Octavia takes a deep breath, “So you haven’t personally had to do it with twins?”

I shake my head, “No. Yours will be the first case of its kind in our practice. Actually, if you choose this procedure, it’ll be the first time it’s ever been performed on twins in this half of the country.”

“Does the fact that it’s twins make it harder?”

I tilt my head to the side, “Yes and no. In terms of the placenta, that part is the same. Your babies share a single placenta, so the technique for tying off is the same as for a singleton. But, the difficulty with twins is that your uterus is going to be very stretched out. And bringing the babies out takes longer because we have to be extra careful not to jostle the placenta.”

“What about C-sections in general? Have you delivered twins by C-section before?”

I nod with a smile, “Many, many times. As of last week, I’ve done over 150 multifetal C-section deliveries since I got out of my residency.”

Octavia raises an eyebrow, “Wow. That’s a lot.”

I nod, “Yeah. I’ve had a least one or two per week. For three years.”

Octavia nods, “So, once the babies are out, what happens to them?”

“Well, that depends on how early we deliver. And we’ll talk about that in a minute. But if their lungs have matured enough to breathe, I try and have the pediatricians bring the babies over to you for a bit so you to see them and touch them once the peds team has checked them over. This is also assuming that we do a method of anesthesia that allows you to stay awake.

“I can do that?”

I nod, “Yeah. With most cesareans, the we're able to do something called a spinal block, which will eliminate your ability to feel anything we’re doing, but allows you to stay awake. I’ve had some patients opt to go under general anesthesia because the invasion was extensive and I knew the operation would take hours, but at this point, yours is one of the less severe cases of accreta I’ve worked on. In terms of anesthesia for any cesarean, when possible, I prefer for mom to be awake and not sedated because then the babies aren’t being sedated.”

Octavia nods, “Do I have to like, _see_ what you’re doing to me?”

I chuckle, “Absolutely not. We have a curtain up at your chest blocking your view of the surgical site.”

She nods, looking a little timid, “Am I in there by myself?”

I shake my head, “Far from it. Lincoln will get into a “bunny suit” and sit by you during the delivery.”

Lincoln raises a suspicious eyebrow, “A bunny suit?”

I smile, “It’s just what we call the sterile jumpsuits that we give to the partners so they can be in the operating room. They fit over your clothes.”

Octavia snickers, “Bunny suit… Please remember to take a picture of that.” Lincoln smiles and nods at her in response.

Walsh speaks up, “The part that some patients will find stressful is the fact that we’ll have several teams in there with us. You’ll meet them all ahead of time, but for the best outcome, we have to take a multi-disciplinary approach. As a result, it kind of seems like a circus in there.”

Lincoln nods, “What teams are there?”

I answer, “Well, we obviously have the obstetric surgeons, myself and Dr. Walsh. We’ll have two neonatal teams – one for each twin. We bring a general surgery team in, in case we need backup. We’ll also have urology in there to attend to your bladder and urinary system in case we have to do a reconstruction on that. We have interventional radiology available in case they need to assist with bleeding control. They can do procedures like balloon catheters through your vessels, if the bleeding is not controlled by the measures I’ve done beforehand, or if we encounter unexpected bleeding.”

Octavia frowns, “That can happen?”

I nod with a serious expression, “These situations are highly unpredictable. Like I said before, this whole thing is very fragile. At any time, things could go south, requiring us to do an emergency hysterectomy once the babies are out. We can’t accurately predict what will actually happen. We can make educated guesses and plan around them. But we always have to consider the contingency plan.”

“So you’re saying it could all go to hell anyway?”

I nod sadly, “Yeah it could. It might come down to making a decision to save your life at the expense of future fertility.”

Both Lincoln and Octavia sigh with a tired nod.

“Do you want me to continue talking about this? Because it’s not something we _have_ to do. The standard treatment is full hysterectomy. And that is a perfectly acceptable option if that’s what you want.”

Octavia shakes her head, “No, I’d still like to _try_ the conservative thing.” She takes a deep breath and releases it, “So once the babies are out, what’s next?”

“Well, I’m going to take a series of steps to remove the portion of your uterus that is invaded by the placenta. That’s called resection. At the same time, we’re taking steps to maintain _hemostasis,_ which means we’re working on making sure you don’t hemorrhage. Once that's achieved, we basically carefully repair your uterus, and bladder if need-be, then close it up.”

Octavia nods, “What about the babies? Once they’re out and checked over and after I get to see them, where do they go?”

“Most likely, they’ll go straight to the NICU.”

“Why?”

“Well, we have to deliver you early. Ideally, with an uncomplicated pregnancy we would want them to ‘bake’ as long as possible, preferably to at least 37 weeks. But, we can’t risk you going into labor. That would constitute an emergency because it could cause severe hemorrhage. So, our consensus is to deliver between 34 and 36 weeks.”

Octavia’s eyes widen. “That’s like, two weeks away.”

I nod, “If we were to deliver at 34 weeks, yes. That’s two weeks from now. But, if we don’t encounter bleeding, I would be okay with waiting until at least 35 weeks. 36 at the latest.” I look at the calendar, “You’ll be 35 weeks on Christmas day. And 36 weeks on New Year’s day.”

“What about 35 and a half weeks? That way I can be at home for Christmas.”

I press my lips into an awkward thin line, not looking forward to what I’m about to tell her next.

“Okay. You’re really not going to like this, O. But I think we should strongly consider admitting you to the antepartum unit at the hospital until you deliver.”

Octavia gives me a level look, “And by ‘strongly consider’ you mean ‘it’s mandatory.’”

I sigh, “Nobody can tell you what to do with your body, Octavia. But I think it would be in the best interest of your health and your babies’ health for you to be admitted to the unit as soon as possible. Everything has been going wonderfully, but things could go downhill quickly, and the last thing I want is for you to be at home if that happens.” She nods, but looks unconvinced. I continue, “We’re talking about multiple ‘high risk’ conditions all happening to one pregnancy. For any one of them alone, I would probably push for you to stay on the antepartum unit. But you have three: complete placenta previa, placenta accreta, _and_ a multifetal pregnancy.”

She takes a deep breath and nods, “Okay. I get it. And I know. I just hate losing all this control, you know?”

“I understand that, O. I really do. And I want to make it as easy on you as possible to be there for the next three to four weeks.”

She nods, “I’ve been to the hospital, and it’s nice.”

I smile, “We’ve got a swanky antepartum unit. We can basically make it like hotel living for you. With a hospital bed.”

She groans, “Ugh. Hospital bed?”

I chuckle, “We get the good mattresses on our unit.”

Octavia sighs and looks at Lincoln, who nods his head as he speaks, “I know it’s your decision, Octavia. But I can’t lose you, okay? Whatever is going to be the safest thing, that’s what I would want for you. But it’s your decision.” He looks like he’s about to cry.

Octavia must pick up on it because _she_ starts crying. Tears track down her face as she nods, “Then yeah, I’ll do it.” Lincoln holds her face in his hands with a reassuring smile as she sniffs back her tears, “Shit, Linc. I’m sorry. I forget it’s not just _me_ that this is happening to.”

He smiles gently, “It’s our family. And I’m here for you, no matter what.” He looks at me, “Can I stay with her?”

I nod, “Absolutely. Every room has sleeping accommodations for partners. And they’re nice. I would recommend bringing your own sheets, though, because the hospital sheets don’t fit the guest beds all that well, and they tend to bunch up at night. And both of you should bring your pillows. Hospital pillows aren’t comfortable. But as for everything else, you’ll have internet, flat screen TV’s and HD channels, Blu-ray players, you name it. It’s there.

Octavia and Lincoln look at each other and nod, “Okay. When do you want me there?”

I smile, “Honestly? As soon as we’re done here.”

She twists her mouth to the side, “So, go home, pack my shit, and go straight to the hospital?”

I nod, “Yeah, pretty much. I’ll make sure they know you’re coming.”

“Okay. We’ll do this, then. So, assuming everything stays ‘okay,’ when do you think we should schedule the C-section?”

“Well, the benefit of being on the antepartum unit is that we can closely monitor everything, and get you as close to 36 weeks as possible.”

Walsh looks over the schedule, “What about the morning of December 29th?”

I nod, “That’ll be 35 weeks and four days.”

Lincoln asks, “You’re not on vacation or anything?”

I shake my head with a laugh, “Not for your case, I’m not.”

Octavia thinks about it a little, “Okay. Lincoln has to be gone for a few days the week before Christmas, so can Bellamy stay with me when he’s not there?”

I nod with a smile, “Of course, O. And I’m sure he’ll love to.”

She laughs, “Yeah, I can tell he’s enjoying my bedrest more than I am.”

I smile, “He loves you, O. And he’s loved being able to spend all this time with you.”

She grins, “Yeah, it’s been really nice having him these past few weeks. I hope you don’t mind that I’ve been commandeering your fiancé’s time.”

I laugh, “Not at all. I’m really happy he can be there for you.”

Her smile is beaming, “Me too.”

“So, go home. Get packed for a long stay. Just bring comfy clothes, like PJ’s or sweats. You don’t have to sit around in a hospital gown all day.”

She laughs, “Good to know.”

Lincoln helps her up and they stand together in a sweet embrace. I feel like I’m intruding on their private moment. Lincoln kisses her forehead before they separate.

As Walsh and I step out of the room, I tell them, “I’ll be by the unit this evening after work to check on you, okay?”

Octavia pulls me into a hug, “Thanks, Clarke.”

“Of course, O.”

“Oh, can you fill Bellamy in? He’ll want to know, and you can probably explain it better than I can.”

I nod, “Sure.”

“And maybe have him come over this evening, too?”

“He’ll be there.”

Lincoln gives me a hug, “Thank you, Clarke.”

“Of course. I’ll see you guys this evening.”

* * *

 

After Lincoln and Octavia leave, I finish my morning appointments before giving Bellamy a call at lunchtime.

He picks up on the second ring with a voice that’s _dripping_ with sex, “I was just thinking of some really naughty things.”

Seriously, when he says shit like that with his voice all graveled, it’s like instinct takes over. I cross my legs over each other and squeeze my thighs together, trying desperately to gain some friction without looking too conspicuous. Remembering the reason I called, I hiss, “Bellamy, you can’t say shit like that when I’m at work. Especially when I’m barely halfway through my day!”

He laughs like an asshole, “Sorry. But I’m not kidding. There are some depraved things going on in my head right now.”

I sigh, “Well, keep it in your pants. I’m calling about Octavia.”

His voice immediately shifts to a serious tone, “Is she okay?”

“Yeah. She’s good. She just wanted me to call you and explain what’s going on.”

“Okay, what is it?”

I take a deep breath, knowing he’s going to lose his shit at what I tell him next. “I’m admitting her to the antepartum unit at the hospital.”

“WHAT THE HELL, Clarke! I thought you said she was okay!” _Yep. Called it._ I would bet anything that he is standing up, fuming at the thought of his sister in danger.

My voice is calm but stern, “Bellamy Blake. Sit your ass back down and listen to me.”

He huffs, indicating that yeah, I was right. I hear him give a dramatic grunt as he reseats himself. He gives a sigh, “Okay. I’m sitting down now.”

“Thank you. Now, I’m having her admitted because she’s nearing the end of her pregnancy, and as you know, she’s got very high risk conditions.”

“Was the bedrest not enough?”

“She’ll still be on bedrest. But this way, she’s in the immediate vicinity of medical care. She’s doing really well right now, but shit can hit the proverbial fan at any point. And I don’t want her to be sitting at home if it happens.”

“So she’s still on bedrest, but now she has to be stuck in the hospital?”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

He huffs, sounding slightly amused, “I bet she hates that.”

“Of course she does. But the antepartum unit is like a hotel. And Lincoln is able to stay with her. Which reminds me, we’re probably gonna be taking the puppies for a few weeks.  Give Lincoln a call and ask about that, because I forgot to bring it up at the appointment.”

I hear the grin in his voice, “Zoe will love that.”

“Yeah. She’ll teach them all her bad habits, I’m sure.”

Bellamy laughs, “It’ll just give them a taste of what’s to come, when we’ll be teaching their kids every bad word we know.”

I bark out a laugh at that one. “Careful, that’ll come back to haunt us.”

He scoffs, “It’s our duty as aunt and uncle to corrupt them. And yeah, of course she’ll teach our kids all kinds of terrible things in retaliation.”

“Such a healthy thing we’ve got going. Anyway, back to Octavia. She wants you to come by this evening.”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Cool. I get finished with my last appointment here at 5pm. Alex is with Nate, so I was planning on going straight to the hospital after I’m done here. Do you want to just meet me there?”

“Yeah, that sounds good.”

“Alright. I’ll see you tonight. I love you, Bell.”

“Love you too, Clarke.”

* * *

 

The rest of my day seems to fly by, and before I know it, my last appointment is concluding. I text Bellamy to let him know I’m on my way to the hospital, and he texts back saying he’ll see me when I get there. I park in one of the designated “Physician” parking spaces and pull up on my phone the chart belonging to a patient I need to visit before I see Octavia.

When I walk onto the unit, I track down the charge nurse, Katie Monroe. She’s always the first person I want to talk to, because she’s the one who knows what’s going on.

I hear Katie behind me, “Dr. Griffin, it’s good to see you tonight.”

I nod with a smile, “It’s good seeing you, too.”

“I assume you’re here to see patients?”

I smile, “Yeah. Owens and Blake.”

She updates me on Owens, who is 34 weeks pregnant with triplets. “Owens and her partner are eating dinner now. She’s been having some cramping, but we’ve been monitoring for contractions and fetal heart tones.  Everything is reassuring, so far.”

“That’s good to hear. And Blake?”

Katie huffs in amusement, “That one’s a spitfire.”

I smirk, “That sounds about right. How is she settling in?”

She keeps looking over the charts and tilts her head, “She’s doing well. We monitored the twins for about an hour when she first got here. Fetal heart tones were reassuring and she hasn’t had any cramping, bleeding, or contractions. Since you ordered intermittent monitoring, we took them off for now.”

I nod, “Good to hear.” 

Katie continues, “Her husband is a sweetheart. It’s my understanding that the brother arrived about an hour ago. I haven’t formally met him, but I hear he’s a piece of work.”

I chuckle, “What happened?”

Katie laughs, “Well, let’s just say he’s very concerned with his sister’s well-being. And not at all concerned with the psyche of the rest of the hospital staff.”

I groan, “Jesus… Has he been yelling?”

She sighs, “I wouldn’t say _yelling_. He was upset that she was still waiting on her dinner, so he made it clear to, well, everyone that heads would roll if Mrs. Blake was neglected.”

“Yeah, he can be kind of an asshole when he’s worried about her.”

She shrugs, “A few people think it’s sweet that he’s so protective. I think their opinions are being influenced by the fact that the man is, and I quote, ‘totally bangable.’”

I bark out a laugh, “This I have to see.”

She snorts, “Well, get in line. Apparently the asshole thing isn’t too much of a deterrent. Several of the residents have already set sights on him.”

I smirk, “Well, best of luck to them.”

She grins, “I’ll be up here if you need anything.”

I go in and chat with Owens family, letting them know we’re still on track for delivery next week. When I walk back out, I see firsthand what Katie was talking about. There is a fucking _pack_ of residents, as well as a few nurses, practically swooning over my fiancé. I hear them chatting between each other, rolling my eyes internally at their shameless gawking. As I get closer, I can hear them, and they don’t seem to notice at all that I’m there.

A short-haired brunette says, “…I know, right? You can tell that shirt is hiding something sinful.”

The sole blonde in the group adds, “Can you imagine that hunk of man in the summertime?”

I hear a man’s voice chime in, “Oh _god_ , yes…”

The blonde warns, “He’s a total dick, though. I heard he’s already chewed out like, half the staff.”

Another brunette laughs, “He can be a dick all he wants, I'll still climb him like a tree.”

I should probably feel territorial and upset that they are so openly lusting after my fiancé, but I have zero concern that Bellamy would give them the time of day. Instead I’m amused, and honestly a little proud that he’s _mine_. That only lasts a few seconds before I realize that one of the fetal monitors is indicating a problem, and nobody is doing anything about it.

I clear my throat, more pissed with each passing second, “Excuse me, but I’m pretty sure that you idiots should be addressing the non-reassuring fetal heart tones on the monitor in 426.”

They scramble over to the bank of monitors as they page the attending. One of them addresses me, “Sorry, Dr. Griffin. They’ve been a little distracted by a patient’s brother.”

I snap back, “Well, let’s hope that there’s nothing truly wrong in 426, because I would hate to be the one to testify at an M&M Conference that you were all too distracted to pay attention to your damn jobs.” I’m referring to Morbidity and Mortality conferences, which are meetings assembled to address mistakes made with patient care. _Nobody_ wants to be the subject of discussion at an M &M conference.

“I’m sorry Dr. Griffin, it won’t happen again.”

I shake my head as I walk away, “Save it. Go do your fucking jobs.” I make it a practice to never belittle the residents, or really anyone below me in the 'food chain.' But seriously, I’m beyond pissed that patient safety is being trumped by hormones. Women already face difficulty being taken seriously as physicians. In many ways it’s still a “Boy’s Club,” and as a whole, we have to work harder to gain respect in our fields. So I see this shit, and it pisses me off just as much now as it did when I was a medical student and resident myself.

Calming myself down, I walk back by the nurse’s station to chat with Katie again.

I lean against the counter with an exaggerated sigh, “You weren’t kidding. They’re sitting around like vultures.”

She nods, “Yup. You’d think they never saw a hot guy walk through here, before.”

I chuckle, “Have you met my fiancé?

She shakes her head, “Can’t say I’ve had the pleasure.”

I nod toward Octavia’s room, “Come with me.”

We walk into the room to find Lincoln and the Blake siblings eating dinner.

Bellamy sees me, and I feel my heart skip a beat when his face lights up with a beaming smile as he walks over. He looks behind me at Katie, then to me again, silently asking me if it’s alright to reveal our relationship in this setting. I give him a small nod as I start introductions.

“Guys, this is Katie. She’s the charge nurse this shift, and she’s the one whose good side you want to be on during your stay. Same goes with all the nurses, but especially the charges.”

Katie laughs, “Mrs. Blake, how are you feeling?”

Octavia smiles brightly, “We’re all doing well, now that I’ve got dinner. I get ‘hangry’ when I’m lacking food.”

Katie nods, “I apologize for the dinner mix-up. Apparently someone thought you were on a dietary restriction, so they entered an incorrect order. It’s been fixed, though.”

I glance at Bellamy, “Is this why I hear you lost your shit earlier?”

He ducks his head down, looking slightly embarrassed as he apologizes to Katie, “Yeah, about that. I didn’t mean to make that one girl cry.”  Leave it to Bellamy to apologize without actually uttering the words, _I'm sorry._  

Katie shakes her head with a gentle smile, “She’s alright, she’s just new. Trust me, you’re not the worst relative we’ve had come through here.”

I interlace my fingers with Bellamy’s as I smile at Katie, “So, now you’ve met the asshole brother. I call him Bellamy.”

Her mouth drops open, “THE Bellamy?”

I nod as he squeezes my hand and I flash him broad grin, “The fiancé, yes.” I wouldn’t have revealed my relationship with the family to other nurses without being able to give an explanation, but I know Katie, and she’s not going to go gossiping about “Dr. Griffin sleeping with a patient’s family member.” She’ll keep it to herself, though I know she’ll have a million questions later.

She smiles, “It’s great to meet you, Bellamy.” She turns her attention back to me, “And I thought that pack of wolves outside were making asses of themselves _before_ …” She laughs, “I take it they’re not aware that they’re shamelessly preying on the fiancé of someone who could literally make or break their careers.”

I shake my head, “Not at this point. But it’s giving us all a nice opportunity to separate the professionals from the rest.”

Bellamy gives me a questioning look and I tell him, “I’ll explain later.”

He smirks, “Alright.”

Katie smiles at everyone, “Well, it was great meeting you all. Octavia, we’re happy you’re here, and if there’s anything that you need at all, you can reach me at the number on the board at the 'Charge Nurse' extension.”

Octavia nods back with a grin, “Thanks, Katie.”

After Katie leaves, I chuckle, “Guys, I wasn’t kidding. The nurses are the ones who run this place. Stay on their good side and you’ll want for nothing.”

Lincoln nods with a grin, “From what I hear, they all _love_ Dr. Griffin.”

I shrug, “Well, I make sure they know that I value what they do, because I know this place would fucking fall apart without them.”

Octavia nods, “Noted.”

I go sit at the foot of O’s bed as Bellamy gathers up everyone’s empty food trays. “How was your afternoon, O?”

She shrugs, “Aside from the food mix-up, it’s been great so far. Lincoln is getting all set up, too.” She points over at the bed that’s all made up. I grin when I see him resting comfortably on the mattress, half-spooning with Octavia. I’m pretty sure he’s not going to be spending much time on that cot.

I smile at Lincoln, “Just FYI, nobody is going to kick you out of O’s bed, as long as she’s stable and there’s no emergency. Whatever makes O comfortable makes the babies happy, and that’s what we want. So if you guys want to cuddle all night, nobody is gonna stop you.”

Octavia and Lincoln smile broadly at each other, then back at me, “Thanks, Clarke.”

“Of course, guys.” I glance at the parents-to-be with a smile before turning toward Bellamy, “I think it’s time to let these two get some rest.”

He nods, “It’s good to see you guys.” He walks over to Lincoln a congratulatory fist bump before he gives his sister a gentle kiss on the forehead, “I’m glad you’re okay.”

She smiles up at him, “Thanks for coming, Bellamy.”

“Any time, O.”

I wave at both of them, “I’ll talk to you guys tomorrow, okay?”

Bellamy reaches my side as we leave to exit the room, but I come to a halt in a little alcove before we reach the door. I turn around and without missing a beat, he cups my face and draws me into a slow, deliberate kiss that’s somehow both tender and devouring.

We break apart with smiles, “I’ve wanted to do that all damn day.”

I laugh softly, “God, me too. As much as I want to show you off, and I really do, I have to be professional here.”

He pouts, “It’s not like we haven’t christened every on-call room in this place.”

I shrug with a smirk, “Yeah, but that was during the day. In the daytime, there’s a lot more going on out there, so it’s easy to sneak away to an on-call room and fuck each other’s brains out. Right now, the hallways are quiet and it’d be too easy to become the next piece of gossip.”

“Fine,” he sighs dramatically.  

I laugh, “You heard Katie talking about the ‘pack of wolves’ out there?”

He nods, “Uh, yeah?”

“Well, if I’m going to chew them out about lack of professionalism later, I can’t very well walk out of here with your tongue down my throat and hands up my skirt.” I pause a second to close my eyes and mumble under my breath, _“Why the hell did I give myself that visual?”_

He whispers lowly in my ear, “Because you know you want it.” I suppress a full body shiver.

“Be that as it may, I’m still using you to pick out who among those idiot residents out there needs to get the most grunt work.”

He drops his mouth open in contrived shock, "You're _using_ me?”

I pat his shoulder in a dusting-off motion, “You are going to walk calmly by my side as we leave. That’s all you have to do.”

He frowns, confused, “And what will you be doing?”

I chuckle, “Taking note of which of them neglects their duties because of you.”

He laughs, “Ah.” He looks down at me and smirks, “I guess I can be kind of a distraction.”

With a roll of my eyes, I open the door up, “You have no idea…”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this wasn't smutty. It was more of a "filler" chapter - you know, those episodes where things aren't all action-packed. They serve to give us all a breather. And it gave us some updates on the Linctavia twins. And they are boys. Woot. And they're as of yet, unnamed. I have some ideas, but nothing is set in stone just yet... 
> 
> Smut will return next chapter, but there were just questions that needed to be answered about the Linctavia twins. I can't just say "Oh yeah, Octavia is gonna have twins and this complicated pregnancy, and I spent several chapters building that up months ago" only to neglect the process of how they're going to arrive in the world :) It's a trying procedure for Clarke, and it'll give us a chance to see Clarke in action... 
> 
> *******
> 
> I'm hoping this isn't too "jargon-y." My initial outlines read like medical records, full of abbreviations and medical terminology. I try and go back and put it into layman's terms, but it takes several revisions to get to that point... (I do a lot of charting, okay? Sue me ;)) 
> 
> Anyway, "One-Step Conservative Surgery" (OSCS) is a thing for placenta accreta, and has been quite a successful treatment when done by extremely skilled surgeons. Old-school OB's hate it (and they'll slam it in medical journals) because it's difficult to master and it's "new" (even though it was first introduced in the '90's. Advances in the medical field move at glacier-like speeds...). The MFM I know is a huge proponent of OSCS because its outcomes have been better than other options (which include leaving the placenta in place and waiting it to be re-absorbed by the uterus). The "One-Step" designation is misleading, because it's a very complicated and lengthy procedure, but the idea is that they don't have to go in for repeated surgeries, they just get everything done with one surgery. 
> 
> *****PSA For Physicians, (ahem) RESIDENTS, Patients, Techs, etc.***** Do yourselves a favor, and make nice with the nurses on your unit. It's amazing how much easier your hospital life will be if you suck up to the nurses - ideally, nurses treat every case with equal amounts of attention and all that, but the reality is, we have preferences for doctors and patients that treat us with respect. And we'll go out of our way to make things easier for them in return. Labs get reported more quickly, things just happen faster... It's subconscious on my part, but I realized I totally do it, and so do each and every one of my colleagues... We've never sacrificed patient care, or lowered our standards... But humans tend to treat others how we're treated. Nasty patients  & family members shouldn't be treated poorly (and I make an effort to be respectful, no matter how shitty they can be), but sometimes we dread going into those rooms. If you're a patient that regularly chews out your nurses, you might have some delays on that extra pillow you requested. Just a tip. 
> 
> As always, REVIEWS ARE SO INCREDIBLY MOTIVATING! That's a lot of capitalization. But seriously, and I know I say this all the time, but just a few sentences might be the thing that breaks writer's block or gives me the motivation to work more on it!!! 
> 
> Also, if you haven't already done it, click that KUDOS button!!!


	47. it could be worse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some morning sexy times :) 
> 
> Then some Blake sibling bonding ~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys! THANK YOU SO MUCH For your awesomeness! Your support has been wonderful, and I'm so grateful for it.  
> Thank you all for leaving all your great comments! If I haven't replied already, I'll be finishing that up as soon as I've posted this.  
> Every time I get a notification about more kudos or comments, I get stupidly excited about it. PLEASE, keep them coming!  
> Sorry for the delayed post - it's been a busy couple of weeks. I ADOPTED A PUPPY (My tumblr has pics). She is very cute, and put me into a state of "Canine Writer's Block" (aka being too cute for me to work and/or needing a thousand walks a day). Her name was Zoe, but my other dog's name is Zoe (and she looks like a lowercase version of the original Zoe) so we've changed it to "Lady" because she's a little lady. And Cute AF. 
> 
> Also, I want to thank [Amber](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ohalaskayoung/pseuds/ohalaskayoung) for beta-ing this for me! (She's bilexualclarke on Tumblr. Go check her out) 
> 
> Without further delay, Here's chapter 47 :)

    

[CLARKE POV]

It’s morning. Probably earlier than nine, given the low position of the sun. As I come to, I feel the weight of Bellamy's arm draped over my side. His breathing is deep and even, the expansion of his bare chest against my nude back is soothing. If I were still tired, I would absolutely fall back asleep like this – blissfully caged in the safety of Bellamy’s arms. Although I really don’t want to move, I have to do my business, so I carefully pry myself out of his grip so I can make my way to the bathroom.

When I walk back into the bedroom, I study Bellamy’s sleeping form on our mattress. He’s flat on his back now, one hand underneath his head, the other resting on his abdomen. I’ve learned that he moves around a lot in his sleep if I’m not in bed with him. It’s funny, he’ll cuddle me like a spoon for the span of the entire night, but if I’m not in bed, I’ll see him flip through five different positions in as many minutes, like he’s trying to attain a comfortable spot on his own. I feel my heart swell when I think about the fact that maybe having me in arm’s reach calms him.

I crawl back into bed and rest on my side, propped up on an elbow. I trail curious fingers along the expanse of tan skin, smiling as I trace the freckles that adorn his body. I follow with my tongue, licking light patterns, then blowing soft puffs of air on the path taken. I take a moment to appreciate the way his skin tightens up as goosebumps erupt along the way. Bellamy is usually a light sleeper. As a result, my past attempts to wake him up with a blowjob are usually foiled by him gaining consciousness before the main event. Today, though, I just might be able to at least _start_ before he wakes.

I make my way farther south as my fingers dance along the “V” of his pelvis. His cock is already half-erect under the sheets, so I pull them the rest of the way off to reveal his manhood. My breath catches at the sight of his beautiful cock. Before Bellamy, I _really_ didn’t care for male anatomy. But now? I have a Pavlovian response to the mere _thought_ of his shaft. My mouth waters as my hand makes its way to his cock of its own accord. He’s not leaking precum yet, so I lick my hand a few times to try and slick it up before I grasp him. My hair is down (and a wild mess at this point), so as I kiss my way down to his cock, my blonde locks brush along his chest and abdomen. I revel in his responding shivers. He sighs, but isn’t awake yet. _Yet…_

I slowly but firmly stroke his cock, feeling its heaviness in my palm as it reaches full attention. A jolt of satisfaction shoots through me when I hear his unconscious grunts. After just a few strokes, he is hard as a rod in my palm. Like steel coated in soft velvet. I dip my face down so I can press a wet kiss to the tip before allowing my tongue to swirl around the head. He gasps sharply, but his eyes are still closed. I apply some suction to his sensitive glans and his hips reflexively thrust up in response. His hands clench into fists and his arms flex and relax in succession as his body tries to make sense of the pleasurable sensations. I bob up and down a few times before I open my jaw wider and take as much of him in as I can, gagging a bit when the tip of his thick cock meets my very reactive throat.

 _“Clarke!”_ His startled voice is hoarse as he cries out and suddenly fists his fingers into my hair while he thrusts up into my mouth. If I could smirk, I would. “ _Fuck_ …” Before long, I feel his cock begin to swell, so I relax my throat while he holds my head in place and I take him all the way in, just in time for hot spurts of his cum to shoot straight past my throat. There’s something so bizarrely hot about knowing that his seed is being deposited so deeply in me… I can’t breathe _at all_ like this, so after a few moments, I attempt pull my head back. Bellamy is still barely conscious, so I have to push hard against his hands before he realizes that I’m literally choking on his cock and lets me off.

"Fuck... Get up here." He gives me a breathless apology as I leave wet kisses in a trail up to his mouth. “That’s a hell of a way to wake up,” he laughs as he cradles my face in his large hands.

I give him a smile and capture his lips with mine in a slow kiss. “Good morning.”

He flips me over with a wicked grin and wordlessly makes his way down to return the favor. It’s funny, when I found out Talia was the one who taught him how to really go down on a woman, I thought I’d feel jealous, but instead, I found it incredibly hot. Maybe it’s because I’ve had the pleasure of Talia’s mouth on me, too. Either way, I owe her a debt of gratitude because _dear god_ , Bellamy’s skills down there are nothing short of marvelous. He nibbles over my mound and I squirm impatiently while he teases his way to my outer lips and licks teasing circles that have me desperate for more. He spreads my legs wider, then holds my hips down just the way I like it while he sneaks his tongue between my folds. I can’t suppress my gasp when he dips his tongue into my slit, making the most obscene slurping sounds (as if I need a reminder of how ridiculously wet I am).

I look down at him, and _holy shit_ he looks good between my legs. His eyes are closed like he’s savoring some delectable meal. I hear my own soft moans of pleasure broken up by needy whines, almost like an out-of-body experience. When he opens his eyes and bores his gaze into mine, a wave of arousal hits me like a solid wall. He growls as he tugs my clit into his hungry mouth, and the reverberations travel through me, making me tremble with need. He’s got his fingers buried inside of me, replaces his tongue with a thumb and lifts his head away to speak.

“You gonna come hard for me, Clarke?”

“Ohmygodohmygod _YES_ , Bell!” My voice is already hoarse in protest of all my throaty cries.

“Good, now do it. I wanna taste it.” _Fuck_ when he tells me shit like that, it’s like an orgasm for my mind. His mouth returns to my heat and I’m so blissed out now that I’ve lost track of what he’s doing down there. I drop my head to the mattress and my eyes roll back in my head while my body succumbs to the force of pleasure. Waves of bliss leave me floating and helpless, my bones weak with satisfaction…

I haven’t even come down from my high and suddenly he’s on top of me, he’s _in_ me, whispering all kinds of filthy things against my wanting ears while he thrusts relentlessly into me.

“Fuck, you taste so good when you come.” I just nod, unable to verbalize a single thought. He hovers his lips above mine and whispers into my mouth, “Taste yourself,” just before he plunges his tongue between my parted lips, evoking a wanton moan from me. In between his dominating kisses, he voices his lewd, sordid thoughts, knowing it’ll bring me right back to the edge with him.

“Can you come again? I’m gonna come and I want you to come with me, baby.”

The only thing I can do is nod feverishly while he changes his angle slightly, bumping my throbbing clit with each plunge of his hips. To be honest, I feel like I’m still riding my first orgasm…

“Come for me, Clarke, _NOW_!”

And I just fall _apart_ underneath him. Every muscle in my body tenses up in gratified tetany until a final rush of pleasure washes over me, making me limp with ecstasy while I ride away on waves of pleasure. Bellamy collapses on top of me, and I relish his solid and unrelenting weight as it pins me to the bed. I love knowing that he’s so completely satisfied, he can’t move…

It dawns on me that not a single ‘Princess” or ‘Sir’ was uttered this morning. But for a round of vanilla sex, it was sure satisfying as hell.

He rolls off of me and pulls me into the V of his legs so I can collapse against his chest. After a few minutes of recovery, I rest my chin on his chest and give him a grin while he threads his fingers through my hair. His smile is so fucking beautiful.

“Good morning to you, too.”

I grin, “Definitely.”

“What time is it?”

I glance over at the alarm clock, “It’s 9:15.”

He gives me a surprised look, “You’re already up?”

I nod, “I got up to go to the bathroom and you were still sleeping there all angel-like. I never get the chance to wake you up with orgasms, so I jumped on the opportunity.”

He smirks, “You do _not_ disappoint. I might have to sleep in more often.”

I shrug, “Being the last to wake has its benefits, occasionally.”

“I’ll say.”

I stretch my arms around him and squeeze myself closer. “Can we go back to sleep for a little while, though?”

He laughs and caresses my back with his fingers, “Yeah, Clarke. We can do that.”

I burrow my cheek against him, “I love you, Bell.”

Bellamy kisses the top of my head, “Love you, too.”  

I drift off to sleep again, lulled by the steady rise and fall of his chest underneath me.

* * *

 

[Bellamy POV]

Clarke’s been busy at work and Lincoln is out of town, so I’ve been staying with Octavia for the last few days. She’s been a trooper, but she has absolutely hated being, as she calls it, _confined_ like this. Lincoln gets back tonight, but I’m enjoying the time I’ve got left for now. O and I haven’t had a lot of chances in the last few years to just hang out. And yeah, I guess she’s kind of a captive audience right now, but I love our visits all the same. We’ve been taking turns on TV shows. She lets me gripe at a history documentary, then she gets to narrate Gilmore Girls episodes. It’s a give-and-take.

I sigh as an episode of the girly show comes to an end, “I will deny it to my dying day, but Gilmore Girls isn’t the worst. I guess.”

Octavia cackles, “Ha! I knew it! I’m telling _everyone_.”

“Never mind. I take it back.”

She keeps crowing, “No takebacks! And that’s totally going in my wedding toast.”

I laugh, “And that’s why nobody’s giving you the mic at the reception.”

She snorts, “Like you’ll be able to wrench it from my fingers. I’m going to give the most embarrassing toast ever. I’ve got so much ammo, brother.”

I narrow my eyes, “That’s true. I might just have to see what we can do about giving you a mic with a three minute battery or something.”

We both share a good laugh as I think about the fact that I will actually _have_ a wedding. I’m not sure when I’ll get used to the fact that it’s actually happening for me.

“You excited, Bell?”

I nod, “Yeah, I am. I mean, we’re sort of working on the wedding stuff now.”

She gives me a strange look, “Sort of?”

“We’ve still got to pick a date. But we’re thinking sooner rather than later. We’ve been working out the things we want in the wedding, too.”

Octavia teases, “Awww, do you have a dream wedding, Bell?”

I laugh, “No, not really. I just want an open bar with good liquor.”

She grins, “Does Clarke have some extravagant dream wedding wish to fulfill?”

I shake my head, “No, we’re in agreement about size and extravagance, or lack thereof. We’re thinking small and intimate for the actual wedding ceremony. Then maybe a bigger party for the reception.”

O nods, “I can dig it.”

“We had a meeting with a wedding planner yesterday, who was a little too enthusiastic and pushing for a big wedding. Clarke was quite… _illustrative_ in her threats to the woman’s career before she kicked her out of the house. She fired another planner before that because she kept pushing mason jars, and Clarke decided that meant she had no taste, because, and I quote, ‘mason jars are a ridiculous fad that should have died before they began.’” I chuckle, “She’s got no patience for people pushing her for something she doesn’t want.”

“That sounds like Clarke. Always a ballbuster.”

I nod with a smirk, “Yeah, something like that.”  

“So are you thinking summer? Fall?”

I shrug, “Sooner than that. As Clarke put it, her concern for the actual wedding is ‘minimal.’ Her words, not mine. We just want to be married already.”

Octavia grins and nudges me with her elbow, “Is there a reason for the rush?”

I nod, “Yeah.” I can’t fight the smile on my face, “We want to get started on kids.”

She squeals so loud my ears feel like they might start ringing. “Fiiiiinally!” She pulls me into a vice-like hug. “Seriously, Bell. I know how bad you want kids. I wasn’t sure if Clarke was down for more, though.”

“Yeah, she said for a long time that she was done after Alex, and I didn’t want to push it. I want to be with her either way, kids or not.” I pause a second, “Wait, how did you know I want kids?”

Octavia gives me a squeeze then pulls back, “I can see it every minute you’re with Alex. You love her like your own, I can see that. But she’s _Nate’s_ daughter. I mean, it’s obvious that you’re incredibly important to her, and I have no doubt she loves you deeply, and you love her just as much. But it’s like you have to share her, you know?”

“I guess so.”

Octavia tilts her head thoughtfully, “Why are you doing that with your face?”

I give her a quizzical look, “Doing what with my face?”

“You’re like, frowning.”

Okay, yeah, I feel the frown. “I don’t know. I _do_ love her like my own kid. And I guess—” I pause a second, trying to figure out why I’m suddenly perturbed with this conversation. I don’t like being put on the spot, but at least I know O will let me talk through it. “I guess it bothers me that you think I’d love her less because I have to ‘share’ her.”

She sighs and puts a hand up in a placating manner, “You’re right. I didn’t mean to suggest that.” She thinks a little longer, “You guys have a really deep bond that surpasses just the step-dad thing.” She gives me a thoughtful look, “Do you know what she has always told me?”

I raise an eyebrow, “What’s that?”

She smiles, “She tells me that your hands were the first to _ever_ hold her. Even before her own mom. And that’s really significant to her.”

I nod with a chuckle, “That’s true. Her entrance to the world was… unique.”

She rests a hand on my forearm, “So I was wrong. I shouldn’t have implied that your relationship with Alex was the reason you wanted more kids. Or that you would love her less.”

I nod, appeased. “I _do_ want more kids. I want them with Clarke. I didn’t think I had marriage in the cards, and certainly didn’t think kids would be in my future. And… I was honestly okay with that at the time.”

“But you’re not anymore?”

“When Clarke came back into the picture, I realized I want it with _her_ … If it wasn’t Clarke, I’d still be living single and I’d probably be just fine with it. But I want it _all_ with her. And if she didn’t want kids, or it ended up we couldn’t have kids or something, Clarke is enough. But, I think we’ll have a lot to offer as parents.”

O smiles broadly, “Yeah, you do. If you can’t conceive, you should adopt.”

I huff, “One thing at a time, O.”

She pokes my side, “Really, though. You guys will be great parents, and there are a lot of kids out there in need of good parents. So maybe it would be something to think about.”

I nod, thoughtfully. It’s something I haven’t considered before. “Well, we’ve got enough on our plate right now. Like nephews coming into the world.”

O pats her belly with a teasing grin, “Thanks for the reminder… This bedrest shit is awful, though. Like, the worst. I want to get the fuck out of here.”

I pick up a cup of Jell-O and point it at her with a chuckle, “But look, you have an endless supply of orange Jell-O.” She gives me a level look and huffs, but leans back in the bed anyway. I ruffle her hair, “Look, it could be worse. This is a pretty sweet setup you’ve got. I mean, you’ve got a Jacuzzi in the bathroom.”

She laughs, “Yeah, that’s true. But I can’t use it unless I have a nurse or someone to help me get in and out. Apparently I am a ‘fall risk’ because my center of gravity is completely whacked with my stomach being as huge as it is.” It’s true. Her abdomen basically looks like it’s hiding a watermelon, despite her being only 34 weeks along. I know better than to compare her to Clarke _out loud_ , but I remember when Clarke was 34 weeks pregnant with Alex, she had only recently developed a bump. Like, half a basketball. Octavia, on the other hand, is carrying a full-size watermelon.  

“Come on, O. You’re waddling, and I’d say your center of balance _is_ off. You can’t say that you’re all sprightly like you were a month ago.” I gesture at her belly, “And that’s growing bigger every day, I swear.”  

She groans, “It’s a fucking twin thing. They’ve been developing really well, so both of them are fucking huge.”

“That sounds like a good thing.”

She nods tiredly, “It is. The docs have hopes that their lungs will be developed enough to breathe normally when they’re born. They have tests they could do to determine that, but because of the placenta being in such a precarious position, they don’t want to do an amnio.”

I frown, “Amnio?”

She nods, “Amniocentesis. They’d basically have to stab a giant needle in my stomach to get samples of amniotic fluid from the twins’ sacs.” She pauses, “Not just that, they’d have to do it twice. But it could trigger labor, because it has to stab through the uterus, and the twins are really crowded in there, so it makes it difficult and really risky. So, no amnio for us.”

I nod, “Like, what does that mean? They might not breathe normally?”

She pauses a second, “Well, the way they explained it was that the babies’ lungs have to have something that helps with surface tension or something on the inside of the lungs, and it lets the lungs do the oxygen thing the right way. So if the stuff hasn’t developed enough, they could have trouble breathing and end up with respiratory distress. And that leads to more problems because breathing is kind of important. So, I’m just doing everything I can to keep them in there long enough for their lungs to work once they’re out.” She snorts, “But I maintain the right to grumble about it.”

I nod, wondering how the fuck she’s so damn calm about this. “You’re a hell of a woman, O.”

She looks at me thoughtfully, “Thanks, Bell.” She tears up, which is something she’s been prone to do lately. “I know I complain about being locked up here, but it could be worse.”

I nod, “Yeah, I’m sure it could.”

She huffs again, “At least it’s not a closet.”

I feel myself tense up when she mentions that. She hasn’t brought up the closet in a long time. When she was six, our mom had a really shitty boyfriend, Ray. He was a mean drunk who would beat on mom, and every attempt I made to intervene resulted in injuries. Nothing bad enough for an ER visit, but bruises and sprains. Still, she kept him around for two years. The inner workings of the mind of a battered woman were a mystery to me. Part of me never forgave her for putting her kids, especially her daughter, in harm’s way like that. As much as I worried about my mom, Octavia was my responsibility. I set up her closet to lock from the inside so that when Ray went on a bender, Octavia could hide in there. I hid with her when I was home, but my school day lasted longer than hers, so until I got home, I wanted her to have a place to get away from him.

The feelings of helplessness as I heard mom taking the brunt of Ray’s anger haunt me to this day. I know that those experiences continue to shape my self-hatred for my darker proclivities. I wonder every day how I can stand to subjugate a woman I love when I grew up seeing it in such a devastating way with my mom…

I take O’s hand in mine. “O… You know that you’re safe here, right?”

A large tear rolls down her cheek, “I know. That’s not what bothers me.”

“What is it, then?”

She sniffs her tears back as she tangles her fingers into the crochet throw she’s been making during her hospital stay. “I feel horrible for saying this, but this – being pregnant and all this shit with it – has made me so fucking angry at mom.”

I nod in understanding, “I wondered if having your own kids would bring that to the surface.”

She huffs, “Like, for a long time, I’ve hated Ray for all the shit he must have put her through. And I absolutely still do. I hope the fucker is rotting somewhere. But over the years, anger at mom has been bubbling beneath the surface. Like, I know she tried, and she did a lot to be a better mom as we grew up, but there’s always been this part of me that hated her for putting us in danger when we were little. And now it’s, like, boiling over.”

I nod, “I know, O.” She looks at me like she’s searching my eyes for truth. “Really, I do.” More tears come streaming down her face now so I scoot closer to her and pull her close to me, cradling her head to my chest they way I’ve done since she was a baby.

“I feel so guilty about hating her, but ever since I’ve been pregnant, I have felt this overpowering instinct to protect my children. Like, I will do absolutely anything to protect them. Why couldn’t she have done the same thing?”

I nod, “I don’t know. But you’re going to be an amazing mom, O. Seriously, these boys have such a fierce woman to raise them.”

She sniffs against my chest, “And Lincoln.”

I chuckle, “And Lincoln. These kids are going to have the best parents.” Then it hits me _. Of course_ she’s angry. On top of that, on a deep level, I know she’s worried that she’ll repeat our mom’s legacy somehow.

I pull my face away to look at her, needing her to believe me. “You’re _not_ mom, O. You aren’t going to make the same mistakes she did.”

She closes her eyes, “How do you know, Bell? I mean, she didn’t wake up every day _wanting_ to be a bad mom. She did the best she could, and it _wasn’t enough_.” She shakes her head, “What if my best isn’t enough, either?”

I search her eyes, “Are you fucking kidding me? You’re already a fantastic mother, O, and they aren’t even born yet. Like you said, you’ll do anything to protect them. You already are. You’re here, even though you hate it.” I squeeze her a little harder, “And tell me, _why_ are you here, O?”

She gives me a small smile, “Because I love these kids, Bell. I love them so much. They’re _everything_ to me.”

I nod, “Exactly. You’re already giving them everything you have.” I give her a broad smile, “You’ve got this, O.”

She burrows her head into my chest, “Thanks, Bell.”

“Anytime, O. I’m serious, you’ll be fine. They’ll be fine.”

She nods, “I hope so.”

I squeeze her, “I know so.”                                                

I hear a knock at the door, so O untangles herself from my arms and calls out, “Come in.”

Clarke pokes her head in with a grin and walks into the room, “Hi guys, I thought I’d come and check in with you guys.” She must see O’s tear streaks still drying, so she looks a little alarmed, “Is everything okay?”  

O smiles with a quick nod, “We were just having a sibling moment.”

Clarke’s eyebrows shoot up, “Oh, I’m sorry! Do you want me to come back later?”

Octavia gives me a smile before facing Clarke again, “No need. We’re good. Is this a doctor visit or a sister-in-law visit?”

She smiles as she walks over to us and stops at my side, “I’ll be on call in about an hour, but I’m not on the clock yet, so this is a personal visit.”

I pull Clarke close with a kiss to the temple. “It’s good to see you.”

She smiles and leaves a quick kiss on my lips, “You, too.”

Octavia cuts in, “I know you’re not here on business, but can you help me take a bath in the Jacuzzi before Lincoln gets back? They won’t let me unless someone helps.”

Clarke nods, “Of course.” She perks up, “Actually, I brought a few things for you.” She starts pulling stuff out of her bag, “Here – your bath oils. I brought the ones that didn’t bother your skin.”

Octavia reaches out to take them, giddy and excited, “Oooh, the calming ones. These are perfect!”

“Good. I also brought your bath pillow.”

“Oh, thank god.” She grins, “Can we use these _now_ please?”

Clarke nods with a laugh, “Definitely. Here, let’s get you up.” She turns her attention to me, “Bell, can you go get the water warmed up? Not real _hot_ but warm enough to be comfortable.”

I nod as I get up to do as asked, “Here, I’ll take the bath things in, too.”

Octavia smiles, “Thanks, big brother.”

I walk into the bathroom, and as I’m reaching for the tub faucet, I hear Octavia cry out. Something about the way her voice cracks makes my heart drop through the floor.

Something is wrong.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry (not sorry) about the cliffhanger there. I find that if I leave a chapter ending all neatly wrapped up, I don't feel the same kind of urgency to start on the next installment. But, I can feel cliffhangers in my bones. Like, as soon as I hit post on this chapter, the unresolved nature will be eating away at me. Which means, hopefully it won't take three effing weeks for the next chapter to update :) 
> 
> We got to see a little Blake sibling bonding. They're like, the heart and soul of the show, and I always have the two of them having these little bonding sessions in my head, but realized those don't make it to publishing because I forget... But I adore them. 
> 
> Hey, if you enjoyed this, go click the KUDOS button!!!!  
> Even better, leave a REVIEW!!! I love love love your comments - you guys are such awesome motivators. :)
> 
> Come talk to me on [tumblr](http://missemarissa.tumblr.com/) (MissEMarissa).


	48. do not try and stop me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dr. Clarke is in her element :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, I want to express a huge THANK YOU to all my readers. I've been floored by your support, and I'm so grateful that you guys have my back. For those of you not familiar, I had an unkind (and ignorant) reviewer on a particularly kinky and dark one-shot I posted for halloween, and within hours, I had readers come fiercely to my defense. So, I just want to shout out to **ElishevaYo, OhAlaskaYoung, and Laura_m_85** for replying to them, and to belgardebells, marauders_groupie, and little_dawn for their words of encouragement. 
> 
> *****
> 
> ALSO,THANK YOU ALL for your motivating comments on the last chapter. Sorry for the cliffhanger! I definitely wanted to get this done sooner, but it's the Fall, and I'm realizing that just because _I'm_ not in school, doesn't mean that I don't end up with a lot of school-like obligations (thanks to the fact that my kid is in school). So, we've been busy as hell, lately... 
> 
> ***Just a warning:*** Clarke is performing surgery in this one, so you'll be treated to a description of a cesarean delivery. I don't think it's too graphic (at least it's got nothing on the first draft), but I just wanted to let you know it's there. It also gets a little bit jargon-y when Clarke is talking to fellow professionals. 
> 
> Without further ado:

The moment Octavia stands up, she cries out in pain. I immediately check for any fluids, blood or otherwise, on the bedsheets. Pleased that I don’t see anything on the sheets, I tell her, “Octavia, I need you to sit back down.”

She does so without delay, but cries out again in pain.

“Tell me what you’re feeling, O.”

“Pain. Like a huge fucking cramp or something.”    

“Okay, I’m going to have you lie on your left side, okay?” She complies, rolling over, but looking absolutely terrified. I stroke her hair reassuringly while I hit the nurse call button as I yell into the bathroom, “Bellamy, call Lincoln. Now.” Trusting that he heard me, I pull out my phone to call Walsh. While it’s ringing, someone from the nurses’ station answers. Within a minute, several nurses and doctors arrive and set to work like a well-oiled machine. Two nurses locate the babies’ heartbeats with the fetal monitors, while another one comes and draws blood to send down to the lab. While they do that, a resident goes to retrieve a portable ultrasound machine. Another nurse is taking O’s vitals while I analyze the fetal heart tones and fill Walsh in on the situation. I check the med record to verify that Octavia received a round of steroids, which we gave to help with the babies’ lung development.

I step back a moment to take a look at the big picture while I talk with Walsh: she’s experiencing unusual pain, but that’s the only abnormality at this point. I analyze the heartrate variations on the fetal monitor, and I’m relieved to see that the babies are in good shape right now. They got the meds needed to help lung development, and if they come out right now, I feel comfortable that that would be in good enough health. I generally would want the babies to “bake” longer, but there comes a time when the risk of them staying “in” outweighs the benefit of being there. When the ultrasound machine arrives, I scan to see how the twins are positioned inside, and I see that “Baby A” is inverted (head down) and the “Baby B” is in a transverse (horizontal) lie, tucked behind his brother, with his head toward O’s right side. If Octavia didn’t have the placental conditions, these twins could likely be birthed vaginally, since baby B would likely straighten out once the first one was out.  But sadly, that’s not the case here.

Putting together all the factors, I make a clinical judgment call.

I take O’s free hand in mine when I speak to her, “Octavia, I think it’s time to deliver the babies.”

Her responding sigh is shaky, “Already? I thought we were waiting another week.”

I nod, “Yes, this is a little earlier than we planned, but we’re well into your 34th week. My concern is that if we wait longer, the risk of complications increases.” She nods, waiting for me to continue,  
“You’re in good shape right now. You had labs drawn this morning that came back normal.” She looks pointedly over at the arm where a nurse is drawing blood, curious as to why they’re drawing it again. “I want to check and make sure everything is _still_ normal.”

O nods, “Okay. What about the boys?”

“The boys are doing great right now. You got the antenatal steroids for their lung development, and based on what I’m seeing, I think they’d be okay to come out now. Although they’re doing okay in there right now, the situation is fragile. I’m concerned that this could become an obstetrical emergency at any moment, and I don’t want to wait for that to happen.”

“Am I in labor?”

I shake my head, “No, not yet. But you are experiencing a few contractions.”

Octavia sighs, “If I go into labor, that’s bad, right?”

I give her a reassuring pat on her shoulder using doctor-speak, “It wouldn’t be optimal.” She gives me a level look, asking me silently not to sugar-coat things. I modify my response, “Yes. It would be bad. That’s why I want to get ahead of it.”  

She nods and rests her hand on my forearm before she squeezes it painfully. I silently thank heavens she’s not gripping my hand, because I kind of need it for surgery… “Okay, where’s Lincoln?”

Bellamy speaks up, “He was already on his way here, and he just parked, he’ll be here any minute now.” I nod gratefully at Bellamy for being on top of that.

“So what happens now?”

“I want to get you prepped for surgery. You’ve eaten recently, so we don’t want to put you under general anesthesia if we don’t have to.”

She nods, “Don’t we want me awake anyway?”

I smile, “Yes, I do. So, we’re going to do a combination epidural/spinal block.”

“Are they coming in here to do that?”

I shake my head, “No, we’re going to take you into the OR and anesthesia will place it while you’re in there.” If this were a normal vaginal delivery, they would come to the room and place it, but because a cesarean delivery is imminent, they’ll bring her to the OR instead.

She looks up at a bag of IV fluids that’s been hung, “Why the IV?”

“For a few reasons, actually. With C-sections, there’s usually more blood loss than a normal vaginal birth, so I want to make sure you have adequate fluid volume ahead of time. Also, epidurals and spinal blocks can cause light-headedness, and having plenty of fluid volume helps to offset that.” She nods, waiting for me to continue. “Also, when you get to the OR, they’re going to place an additional IV, possibly two.”

Her eyes widen, “Why so many?”

“Remember I told you your condition is dangerous and the situation is fragile?”

She nods with a very Octavia-like roll of the eyes, “Yeah, all six thousand times.” She smiles faintly and nods for me to continue.

“Well, we want to place IV lines that are wide enough so that if we need to get a blood transfusion and/or more fluids into you, we can do it _fast_. I promise, it’s not because we enjoy poking you.”

She chuckles, “Okay.” We hear a quick knock on the door and an alarmed-looking Lincoln rushes to Octavia’s side.

She immediately answers his unasked question, “I’m okay, I’m okay. And the babies are okay.” He looks overcome with relief.

“What’s happening, then?” He looks around at all the nurses and docs around.

Octavia squeezes his hand and smiles at him, “We’re gonna meet the boys.” Lincoln seems to understand the implications that there must be a reason we’re doing it so early, so she continues, “I’ve been having some pain, and we want to avoid me going into labor.”

He nods, “Okay.” He looks worried for Octavia, but smiles when he says, “So the boys are going to be born today?”

Octavia nods with a grin, “Yeah. They are.”                 

Walsh arrives just then so we can go through the steps for obtaining written consent. Octavia has heard all of it before, but by law, I have to go through it again with her as the surgeon performing the operation. We review again why we’re doing this, what to expect, and risks and possible complications. After consent is gathered, Walsh and I get up to leave so we can go over the surgical plan.

I speak up, “So, I’m going to go get ready on my end. Before I leave – Lincoln, they know you’re here and they’ll have a suit ready for you when O is prepped. Until then, you two-” I gesture between Lincoln and Bellamy, “-stay here and hang out, keep her company until it’s time for her to go back.”

Bellamy gives me a questioning look, wondering what he’s supposed to do. I walk over, “Just stay nearby, okay? There’s a bench near the hallway to the OR. Just be there, okay?”

He frowns, “Is everything okay?”

I nod, acknowledging that he’s freaking out a little about all this himself. “Yeah, it’s fine. They’re fine. But I think it would help Octavia if she knows you’re nearby. Also, once the babies are out, they don’t hang out in the OR the whole time. After O gets to see them a little bit, they’ll probably go to the NICU. It would be nice if someone could go with them.” He nods in understanding.  

I start to head for the door, before he grabs my hand and searches my eyes. I know he’s worried about O going into surgery, but he’s trying to figure out how to word it without sounding like he’s questioning me.

“Bell, she and the babies are in great shape for this, okay? If I thought there was something problematic or something I was worried about, I would tell her.”

He squeezes my hand with a smile, “I know. I just wanted to tell you good luck or something. I trust you. And so does she. But you’ll be fine.”

I nod, smiling back, “I know. Thanks Bell.”

I head over to the workroom and pull up Octavia’s pMRI scans on the computer monitor to give it another study before we start. I always have a specific game plan with each operation, but I have to consider every other contingency. I don’t want any surprises, but that doesn’t mean they don’t happen. Walsh comes in shortly after I get there and we discuss the strategy. This is “my” procedure. It’s what I’m known for, and my record and experience with it has been superb. When we first brought my involvement up with the hospital board, the initial decision was for me to not even scrub in for liability reasons. Performing surgery on friends and family members isn’t a normal practice, for good reason. It’s hard to separate your personal life. You have to suddenly look at the person on your table as a patient, not your friend or future sister-in-law. I was disappointed, but understood the board’s decision. Octavia, however, refused to accept it. She and Walsh lobbied for me to scrub in, noting that I was the most qualified to do it. I made a promise to hand the responsibility over to Walsh if at any point I felt like my ability to do this perfectly was compromised. So far, I’m feeling confident. We get in touch with several other teams of doctors who will be joining us in the OR suite soon.

Walsh drums his fingers on the table after we’ve finalized our plan, “You ready, Griffin?”

I nod with a smile, “I am.”

I head to the locker room to change into scrubs. Like most surgeons, I’ve got my superstitions, so I check and make sure my good luck charm – my dad’s watch – is tucked into my bra. I can’t wear a watch or any other jewelry in surgery. So, I’ve taken to storing it on my person. It’s an irrational practice, but it’s not uncommon with surgeons. Some have lucky scrub caps or something along those lines, but mine has always been my dad’s watch. I had it with me it when I aced my MCAT’s, for every exam in medical school, for my boards and interviews, and every other career-defining event. So, I figure, why mess with a good thing?

Dressed in my scrubs, I walk down the OR hallway and get a glimpse of Lincoln waiting outside the door to the room where Octavia is being prepped. He’s dressed in the bunny suit – the sterile jumpsuit-like garment that the partners wear into the OR. I glance down the hallway and   I see Bellamy sitting on the bench outside the main doors, where I asked him to be. His elbows rest on his knees, his head bowed down, and hands clasped like he’s praying. I can imagine he’s spiraling with anxiety for Octavia, and I don’t blame him. I’m glad he’s here, though. I wasn’t lying to him. I have a feeling he’ll be needed, I’m just not sure how.

I retrieve a package containing a sterile jumpsuit and walk to the end of the hall. Bellamy hasn’t picked up his head yet, so I whisper to get his attention.

“Psssst.”

His head pops up and he gives me an alarmed look as he stands to walk toward me. Before he can ask, I hold a hand up, “She’s fine, we haven’t started yet. I’m about to go in, though.”

He nods and I step out of the doors. Nobody can cross the red line to enter the OR hallway without being in OR scrubs or the jumpsuits. I hand him the package. “Just keep this with you. If someone comes out to get you, put this on immediately, okay?”

“What do you mean ‘comes out to get me?’”

“If Lincoln goes to the NICU with the babies, Octavia will be in there by herself after the delivery. And I don’t want that. She needs someone with her.”

“Would Lincoln leave her?”

I chuckle, “Do you really think your sister is going to let her sons leave her sight without knowing their father is with them?”

The corners of Bellamy’s lips tug into a smile, “Good point.”

“Octavia will _make_ him leave. And when she does, I want to have someone else to tag in. And I can’t think of anyone better than you.”

He nods, “I’ve taken care of her for her whole life.” He blinks at the ceiling and I can see he’s fighting back tears. “I feel so goddamn helpless right now.”

“Bell. This is my domain, okay? You’re not helpless because you’ve got _me_.” I give him a cocky grin, “And I’ve got this, okay?”

He smiles with a wet laugh, “You do.”

I nod pointedly at the jumpsuit in his hands, “Be ready in case she needs you. And don’t open the package until they tell you to.”

“Alright.”

I push at his shoulder playfully, “I’ve gotta go deliver some babies and save your sister’s uterus.” I normally wouldn’t be using humor in this kind of situation, but Bellamy is about to go out of his mind with anxiety, and he needs his mood lightened. I give him a teasing grin, “Keep it together, Blake.”

He smirks and his face instantly looks lighter, “Alright, get in there and do your thing, Doc.”

I want to pull him down for a kiss, but for the sake of propriety, I keep the touches to a minimum. I walk back into the OR hallway, but before the doors close again, I turn around and silently mouth, “I love you.”

He smiles and I see his lips move, saying he loves me too.

I’m ready to head into the washroom and scrub in, but stop to check in with Lincoln. I put a hand on his shoulder, startling him (Not an easy feat – Lincoln is _never_ startled). I give him a gentle smile, “You ready to meet your boys, Linc?”

He nods once and I can see every emotion on his face right now, which is a rarity for Lincoln. His eyes are swimming with fear and nervousness for Octavia, but the excitement to meet their children is just as evident.

“Someone will be out to bring you back soon, okay?” He nods quickly and faces forward again, staring a hole in the operating room door. Just as I’m about to step away, he pulls me into a fierce hug and squeezes me tight. I think Lincoln has hugged me maybe three times in my life. To say I’m shocked is an understatement.  

His shaking voice cracks into my shoulder, “Please, Clarke. She has to make it through this, okay?”

I nod as I pat his back, “Lincoln. She’s in the best possible hands. And you get to be right there with her.”

He squeezes once more before he releases me and I can see he’s still reeling inside. I cup his face in my hands to make him look at me. “Lincoln. She needs you to not be freaking out right now. Okay? I’ve got this. We’ve got every team under the sun in there. I’ve never lost a patient with this procedure, and I’m not going to start today.” Those are words I should never say because that’s just begging fate to prove me wrong. But, for some reason, I know that everything will be fine. I can’t explain _why_ I know, but I do.

He nods, “Thank you, Clarke.” His face schools into his usual fiercely confident and reassuring expression. He’ll be exactly what O needs by her side.

“You’re welcome, Lincoln. I’ll see you in there.” After a moment, “Oh. I didn’t get to talk to you about what to do after the babies are born. But, you can go with them to the NICU once they’re ready to leave the OR.”

He frowns, “What about Octavia?”

I tilt my head toward the end of the hallway, “I’ve got someone you can tag in.”

He nods, face still serious. “Okay.”

I smile and head back to the washroom to scrub up. The routine is like second nature. Rings and jewelry of any kind are off and stowed away in my locker. Dad’s watch is in my bra. I’m ready to go. I walk into the OR and I’m in my element. I feel a sense of control and focus like nothing else I’ve ever felt. O is already on the table, Lincoln next to her and kissing her forehead. An anesthesiologist is working with a nurse to pin up a curtain at O’s chest level so that she doesn’t have to see me slicing into her... A nurse comes to my side and fills me in.

“The patient started experiencing contractions, so Dr. Walsh ordered a tocolytic to halt the contractions.

I nod, “Good.” I need the uterus to _not_ be contracting while I’m carefully tying off each errant blood vessel that’s attached to the embedded portion of the placenta.

“We have four units of PRBC’s [packed red blood cells] in the room, typed and cross-matched, FFP [fresh frozen plasma] available, and a cell-saver ready. Two large-bore IV lines were inserted and patent.”  

I acknowledge this standard information with a nod of the head. “And the fetuses?” _Those are not my nephews right now. And the woman on the table is not my future sister-in-law. This is a patient with a multifetal pregnancy, complicated by a condition for which I have specialized training to repair. I’m the best fucking surgeon in the country for this, and my patient will be fine._

She answers, “After Anesthesia administered the spinal block and placed the epidural, the patient’s blood pressure dropped and both fetuses presented with a prolonged deceleration. The patient was placed on her left side, oxygen administered, and IV fluid rate increased. Both FHR’s returned to baseline with moderate variability, no decels since the one.” Basically, she’s saying that the epidural caused Octavia’s blood pressure to drop, which is not uncommon, and the babies didn’t like it. But, after a series of quick interventions, they’re doing fine now.

“Thank you.”

I look and take in my army. I nod to the two NICU teams ready to take each baby as he comes out. I see urology to the side discussing something with Walsh. They’re here in case the bladder or urinary tract system needs repair. Two anesthesiologists are next to O’s head, monitoring her vitals, making sure she stays completely numb from the level of her breasts and down. They are also ready to put her under if need be, but I don’t plan on that happening. I want her to be able to see and bond with her babies. It sucks enough to be under the knife when your children come into the world. I don’t want to make it harder for a woman to connect with her newborns. I know she wants to be alert for when she’s done so she can go see them as soon as possible. Radiology is on standby in case we need their help. One of our best general surgeons is here in case shit goes catastrophically wrong and we need another set of hands.  Heartrate monitors are tracing both fetuses so we can monitor the patterns, which basically tell us if the babies are still doing okay in there.

The scrub nurse opens a sterile gown from the packaging and holds it open by the appropriate corners so I can slip my arms into it without anyone touching the front and destroying the sterility. The scrub tech and OR nurse are going through the pre-incision materials count, which will be repeated before we close the patient back up, to make sure we don’t leave objects inside. Because that shit happens. It hasn’t happened under my watch, and I don’t plan on changing that. I feel the gown being tied behind me while I put on a surgical mask, then a scrub cap is tied over my head as I don sterile gloves.

I call for everyone’s attention. It’s time for our check-in, where names are announced, we list the major details, like the patient’s name and condition, and the plan for surgery. It’s our moment to step back and make sure everyone is on the same page. “Alright everybody. Time-out.” Everyone stops talking and pays attention. “I’m Dr. Clarke Griffin.” Dr. Walsh announces himself next, followed by every other professional in the room. It comes back to me. “The date is December 23, 2015. The time is 19:08. The patient is Octavia Blake, age 28, primagravida with a multifetal twin pregnancy complicated by complete placenta previa and placenta accreta. We are performing a cesarean section to deliver monochorionic diamniotic twins with a gestational age of 34 weeks 5 days. As of now, membranes are intact. A transverse abdominal incision will be made, followed by visualization of the uterus. A decision to make a bladder flap will be made once the uterus is visualized. That will be followed by location and ligation of newly-formed blood vessels, followed by hysterotomy [uterine incision] and delivery of two live fetuses. Two peds teams are in the room to take each one and ready to perform resuscitation as needed...” I list more surgical details before wrapping it up, “Let’s deliver some babies!”    

And just like that, I get to work. I step up on the surgical “stool” that I use so I can easily see my work area. It also puts me a head taller than everyone else, so I can survey the rest of the room with ease if I need. My first incision is quickly but carefully made low on her abdomen, cutting through the skin layer first. Then I have to separate the abdominal muscle to enter into the abdominal cavity. Once I’ve exposed the uterus, I’m relieved to find that the “bad” vessels are exactly where I visualized them to be. So, no surprises so far.

We keep constantly monitoring the twins, making sure they aren’t experiencing fetal distress while I perform the most sensitive part of the operation. Tying the problem vessels takes a long time, but it goes smoothly and without complications. As I finish ligating the final vessel, I take a deep breath and give Walsh a relieved smile (though it’s concealed by my surgical mask). Now that the vessel ligation is completed, the “bad” vessels no longer have blood flow, so the risk of hemorrhage has essentially decreased to “normal” for a C-section. We’re not completely out of the woods, but everything has gone according to plan and the most delicate part is done. Finally, it’s time to open the uterus and deliver the babies.

After making a careful incision into the uterus, I insert my hand carefully and locate the first fetal sac, thankful that the head is the “presenting part.” I gently pop the sac, releasing a gush of amniotic fluid, then insert my hand and cup the baby’s head in my fingers so I can elevate his head to the opening. On my signal, Walsh applies gentle but firm pressure from the other side of the uterus to help “push” the baby through while I guide his head out, followed by each shoulder, then finally the rest of him... As I pull him out of the womb, he is _pissed_. After some strong coughs, his lusty cries are like music to my ears. I hear a jubilant shout from Octavia and a loud sigh of relief from Lincoln, who stands up to see what’s happening.

There are excited “whoop!” sounds ringing through the delivery room from all parties, as I announce “Baby A Wilder, born at 20:17 on December 23, 2015.”

Baby B is still tucked safely inside of Octavia, and the monitor has been tracing his heartrate continuously without problems. After Walsh clamps and cuts Baby A’s cord, I hand him off to the first Peds team and return my attention to O’s uterus so I can locate Baby B. He’s still in a transverse lie, meaning I have to gently rotate his body so I can bring his head to the incision. I wait to pop the membranes on his bag until I’ve finished moving him, because it’s actually easier to rotate him while he’s still in-bag.

While I’m turning him, I hear someone call out, “One-minute APGAR for Baby A is eight – one point off for color and one off for tone.” Eight out of ten is a good score, especially in Colorado. The APGAR score is a quick indicator of how well a baby is transitioning from the womb to the outside world in these first few minutes. We generally score them at one minute and five minutes after birth, and sometimes at ten minutes if we’re not satisfied at five minutes. A total of ten points is possible, with a score of zero, one, or two given for five categories: heartrate, respiratory rate, muscle tone, reflex irritability (how strong they’re crying), and color.

While I’m maneuvering Baby B, I hear the fetal monitor slow down and my heart sinks as I hear a troubling prolonged deceleration. The baby’s heart is slowing down, and it’s not speeding back up. That’s bad. He’s in distress, and I need to get him out _now_. Once his head is close enough to where I want it, I pop the bag so I can quickly and carefully scoop my fingers under his head. I nod for Walsh to push again while I deliver him in a similar fashion as his brother, only this guy comes out blue and limp.

I announce the birth of Baby B as Walsh clamps and cuts the cord, then I quickly hand the unresponsive newborn over to the Peds team. There are few things more unnerving for me as handing over a limp baby. The first time I watched a C-section delivery, I saw them deliver what appeared to be a dead fetus. I thought I was going to throw up at the sight of its blue color and flaccid limbs. But then I watched in awe as the Peds team worked seamlessly to bring the limp, lifeless body back to life. Suddenly there was a bright pink screaming infant on the warmer, and my heart leapt in joyous relief. I have faith that they’ll successfully bring this little guy back, too. I hear them begin neonatal resuscitation on him, so I take a deep breath and get back to work on Octavia. I can’t be distracted by the babies. That’s why the peds teams are there. Octavia is my priority.

I feel my heart stutter when Octavia cries out, “He’s not crying! Why isn’t he crying?” Her panicked confusion is heartbreaking, but I can’t focus on it. I’m relying on Lincoln to keep her grounded, hoping he can keep her calm despite the fact that he’s probably just as panicked. Octavia doesn’t cry out again, and the Anesthesiologists haven’t commented on abnormal vitals that might arise from unchecked emotions, so Lincoln must be doing a good enough job.

Walsh and I exteriorize the uterus, which is a fancy way of saying that we pull it out of the abdominal cavity to be able to manipulate it a little better, then get to work cauterizing small errant bleeds that have popped up.

I hear someone call out, “Baby B’s one-minute APGAR is three, one point for color, two for heartrate.” I wince internally at the low number.  

Shortly after, I hear someone say, “Baby A’s five-minute APGAR score is nine, one point off for color.” That’s common in Colorado. The air up here is thinner, so perfectly healthy babies continue to stay bluish for a few minutes. Thankfully, he’s adjusting to life outside the womb seamlessly so far. The room is still tense for Baby B, who has yet to make a sound. I can’t see what’s happening, and it’s not my priority, but I keep an ear out anyway. Finally, I hear a second cry in harmony with Baby A, and I smile broadly as the various people in the room are making sounds to portray their own relief.

Soon I hear Lincoln’s voice as he spouts off updates for Octavia. He chuckles, “Octavia, Sebastian is scowling like you do when you’re mad.”

She laughs, “Good. I’d be mad too, if my brother came out and scared the shit out of everyone like that.” She sniffs, “Tell me about Julian. What’s he like?” Octavia and Lincoln had kept their lips sealed on the names of the babies, so this is the first I’ve heard of them.

Lincoln’s voice smiles, “He’s beautiful, like his brother. He’s quieter.”

She snorts, “Yeah, got that much… Tell me more.”

“They look exactly the same. Like, _exactly_ the same. But Julian seems… calmer. He’s looking around more, too.”

She inhales sharply, and I can feel the determination in her voice as she asserts, “He’s an observer. He takes after you, then.”

Lincoln chuckles, “Then Sebastian takes after you. Came out shouting and kicking. He’s making himself heard.”

She huffs, “Damn straight.” After a moment, I hear her voice strain, “Can I see them, yet?”

Lincoln is saying something with one of the peds team members, and apparently they’ve acquiesced, because after about a minute, I hear Octavia cry, “Oh my god, Lincoln, he’s perfect.” She gushes over her little person, and the joy in her voice makes my heart squeeze. After a few minutes, I hear them bringing the other baby over to her.

I feel my wide grin at her admonishing tone when she tells him, “You scared the hell out of us, Julian. And that was not nice.” Then she breaks down, “Oh my god, I’m so happy to meet you.”

They gush over their sons for a while longer before the Peds team tells them that the babies need to get back under the warmers due to the frigid temperature of the OR. Octavia’s disappointment is evident in her voice.

I speak up to ask the senior doc on the peds team for Sebastian, “Is Baby A stable enough for some skin-to-skin?”

She answers, “Yes. He could do that if we have a nurse or someone free to assist.”

Someone I don’t recognize speaks up, “I can help.”

I nod with a quick glance, “And you are?”

“I’m Genevieve Fox. Or just, Fox, actually.” I nod, waiting for her to tell me more than just her name. I like to know who is working with my patients, which is why I make a point to know every nurse, resident, and doctor here. She continues, “I’m a nurse, started here last month. I’m also a lactation specialist. I understand how important it is for contact and bonding to occur as soon as possible.”

“Good. Carry on.” I hear them discussing something amongst themselves and I devote my focus to the surgery again, which is has remained uncomplicated so far. I smile to myself, happy that we’re able to give Octavia at least a _little_ bit of bonding time before the babies have to go. As I expected, when it’s time for the babies to go to the NICU, Octavia demands that Lincoln go with them. I smirk at the truth of my earlier prediction.

Octavia sounds incensed, “Lincoln, I’m fine. And I’ll stay fine. But our sons need their father, dammit. So _go with them_. Now!” Lincoln gives her a soft kiss to the forehead before getting up and following the boys out of the OR. I ask someone to go get Bellamy to replace him.

About five minutes after Lincoln and the babies leave, I’m working on the “Uterine repair” step of the operation. I hear Octavia’s heart rate begin to spike. I immediately check to see if it could be due to compensation for blood loss, but neither Walsh nor I find a bleed that would account for a spike like this. I hear O sniff back tears, followed by a shuddering sob that evolves into all-out crying.

The anesthesiologist voices his concern, “Griffin, the patient is on the verge of hysterics. We should consider administering a sedative. Or even put her under.” His concern is legitimate, but his delivery leaves something to be desired.

Octavia hears them mention sedation and sobs, “No, please! I don’t need medication.” She sniffs back more tears, “See, I’ll calm down.” She attempts some deep breaths, but her crying intensifies, and I can hear the panic in her voice. Where the hell is Bellamy?

The anesthesiologist mentions sedation again, and I pause my surgical work for a moment, giving Walsh a quick glance to make sure he’s aware of the momentary hiatus.

I speak up, “No. Do _not_ sedate her.”

“Dr. Griffin, she needs to calm down.”

I give them a glare, “I’m perfectly aware of that, and she _will_ calm down. Did someone go get her brother?” I get no response, so I glance around the room and spot Fox, the nurse from earlier. “Fox, I need you to go get her brother.”

She nods quickly, “Okay, where can I find him?”

“He’s standing outside of the doors to the OR hallway. Tall, dark hair, anxious-looking. His name is Bellamy Blake. Suit him up and get him in here. Now.”

Fox tears out of the OR, her determination evident in her footsteps. I know she is trying to make a good impression, which is smart. I don’t like brown-nosing, but I appreciate action. A lot of new faces around here will suck up in attempt to get into my good graces, but they do little to back it up. Fox, however, has impressed me so far today. I’m pretty sure she’s a new graduate, and I have zero influence on staffing, but when I see someone who could go far with the right kind of mentoring, I try and see to it that the right people know about it. I make a mental note to mention her to the nurse manager.

I direct my attention to the anxious woman on the table, “Octavia, honey? I need you to listen to my voice. They’re bringing Bellamy in, okay?”

She sniffs back tears, her chest still heaving, “Okay.”

“He’ll be here any second now. Until then, I need you to slow your breathing down. Can you do that?”

I hear a shaky “okay” and I can see her fingers digging crescent-shaped dents into her palms. The OR doors open again and Bellamy comes bounding in. He catches my gaze and I give him a nod toward Octavia. He suddenly looks a little pale when he glances at my work area, but manages to keep it together and takes a seat in the stool next to Octavia’s head. The rise and fall of her chest begins to slow to a normal rate, and her heartrate, while still high, has started to come down.

I turn back to Walsh and give him a nod so we can resume the surgery. I smile as I hear Bellamy whisper soft encouragements while he threads his fingers through her hair. I sometimes envy the connection they have. Although her childhood was a disaster in many ways, Octavia has had the privilege of growing up with a person who will always come through for her, without question. And thank god, he’s here right now.

 

* * *

[Bellamy POV]

As Clarke asks, I wait outside the hallway to the OR where my sister is undergoing a huge surgery. To say I’m nervous is a gross understatement. My little sister’s life is literally in my fiancé’s hands down the hallway. I know she’ll be alright. I know Clarke’s got this. But it’s O. I don’t think there will come a day when I stop worrying about her. My sister, my responsibility…  

After what feels like an eternity of people going in and out, two rolling warmers come into the hallway, pushed by several scrubs-clad individuals, followed by a proud-looking Lincoln. His face isn’t panicked. In fact, he looks really happy, so that’s comforting. If something was going wrong with O, I don’t think he’d look this calm.

Before I can ask, he gives me a drive-by update on Octavia and how it went. He doesn’t want to leave the twins’ side, and I wouldn’t ask him to, so I just let him talk. “Octavia is doing well and the boys are great. She’s still in surgery, but we’re taking these guys to the NICU now for observation. I have to stay with them.”

I give him a congratulatory clap on the shoulder, “Go on. I’ll wait here for O.”

He nods, “Thank you, Bellamy.”

“Of course.”

I sit back down and fidget with the packaged jumpsuit thing Clarke gave me to hold onto. After several minutes of nervously tapping my feet and nearly gouging a hole in the packaging with my finger, I see someone bounding out the door.

She studies me on her way over before asking, “Bellamy Blake?”

I stand up quickly and nod, “That’s me.”

She looks pointedly at the jumpsuit in my hands as I automatically start to open up the packaging, “Good you have one. Put that on and follow me.” I waste no time stepping into it and zipping it up. She keeps talking as hands me a hair net, a mask, and some shoe-cover things to go over my shoes. “The surgery is going fine, but your sister is getting a little bit upset, and Dr. Griffin thinks you can help calm her down.”

I nod, “Yeah, anything she needs.”

After I’m suited up (having fumbled gracelessly with just about every element of the garments handed to me), I make my way into the operating room. I immediately spot Clarke, standing a good head taller than everyone else. She sees me and nods toward O, so I immediately walk to the stool next to her head. I make the mistake of glancing over the curtain on my way there, but swallow back the panic of seeing my sister’s abdominal cavity sliced wide open, with _some_ anatomical object currently placed on top of her. I want to ask if it’s _supposed_ to be all out in the open like that, but figure it would be unwise to verbalize that sort of question right now. I’m supposed to calm O down, not freak her out more. I really should have known better than to look…

O is laying on the table, arms spread out straight to each side, like she’s being crucified. I sit down on the stool and squeeze the hand closest to me, “Hey, O. I’m here.”

She smiles up at me with a relieved sigh, “Thanks, Bell.”

“How are you holding up?”

She shrugs and blinks back a few tears, “Oh, you know. I’m great here. Just chilling, then thinking about the fact that I’m sliced wide open behind that curtain. It just freaks me out when I think about it.” Her eyes take on a panicked quality, “Like right now. Shit, it’s happening again.”

“Alright, O. Slow down.” I keep my voice low and soothing, “Breathe with me - in through your nose, out through your mouth, okay?” She nods as we breathe together, and she’s calm again soon. “Better?”

She squeezes her eyelids and nods, “Yeah. Better.”

“Good. Can you tell me about the boys?”

She smiles and opens her eyes, bright with tears, “God, they’re beautiful, Bell. They look like you, actually. It’s strange.”

I chuckle, “Blake family features must be dominant.”

She huffs, “I’ll say. They have blue eyes. But I think most babies are born with blue eyes.”

I smile, “So do they have names, yet?”

“They always had names, we just kept them a secret. But I’m pretty sure Clarke heard them.”

My voice is teasing, “Then it’s only fair you tell their uncle, then.”

She beams, “Sebastian came out first, kicking and screaming. Literally.”

I chuckle, “You did, too.”

She raises an eyebrow, “You remember?”

I nod, “I was five, and I was the one who caught you when mom gave birth to you in the downstairs bathroom. That memory is kind of branded onto my brain.” I chuckle a little when I think about the fact that I’ve actually _delivered_ two babies simply because I was the only one there when they decided to come out.

She chuckles, “After that, Julian came out without making a sound. I couldn’t hear anything coming from him, and I almost lost my shit, I was so scared.”

“Is he okay? Did they say what happened?”

She nods, “He just took a little longer to take his first breath. But they got him all riled up like Sebastian in no time.”

I smile, “That’s good.”

“Yeah, they’re good. They’ll probably spend the rest of the night in the NICU, but they were breathing well on their own, so that’s good.”

“Do they have middle names?”

“They’re both gonna be Blake. So, Sebastian Blake Wilder and Julian Blake Wilder.”

I nod with a knowing grin, "Ohh, I see how it is."

She raises an eyebrow, "How what is?"

"You gave me so much shit for giving you an ancient Latin-based name, then you give both of your sons ancient Latin-based names."

She rolls her eyes, "Something about the names just... _fit_." 

I smile, "I like them.  A lot." 

She grins, "Good." 

"Any approved nicknames?”

She scoffs, “Not yet. We get veto power, though.”

I laugh, “Fair enough. I’m really happy for you, O.”

“Yeah. Clarke came through. They both came out healthy and they’re both alive. I feel really, really blessed.”

I stroke her forehead with my thumb, “You are.”

I glance over at Clarke, who is absolutely in her element here. She’s completely focused, and her confidence just floors me. I didn’t think I’d ever have the chance to see her like this – it’s not like they have a take-your-significant-other-to-work day. And I doubt they’d let just anyone into an OR. Above all that, though, I probably wouldn’t elect to watch surgical operations in my free time. But really, Clarke is amazing to watch.

I feel O squeeze my hand as she chuckles, “My god, Bellamy. You’re hopeless!”

I frown, “What do you mean?”

She smiles, “You’re so far gone for your fiancé, that’s all.”

I huff with a smirk, “Sorry. I just got distracted. Back to you.”

She grins, “No, actually distraction is good right now.”

“Noted. Then how about what you’re going to dress those boys in for the trip home?”

She shrugs, “Well, we’re gonna do the dress-them-differently thing. And it’s not _just_ because we want to be able to tell them apart.” She chuckles, “But I won’t lie, that’s part of it.”

“Eh, they’re already identical, right? I say give them a chance to define themselves outside of their twin-status.”

She nods, “Exactly.” A blissful smile stretches across her face, “I can’t wait to see them again.”

I nod, giving her a kiss on the forehead, “You’ll see them again soon. I got a glimpse of them as they rolled past me on the way to the NICU.”

“Did they look happy?”

I laugh, “They looked sleepy. I think one of them was asleep and the other one was just squinting really hard… They’re bigger than I thought they’d be.”

She nods, “Yeah, well they felt even bigger inside of me.”

“They looked like full-sized babies. I was expecting like, shriveled-up peanuts or something. They’re not as big as Alex was, but still.”

“They haven’t weighed them, yet. I think they’re probably doing that right now, so hopefully we’ll know by the time they come out.”

I manage to keep Octavia distracted and calm for the rest of the surgery, and before we know it, I see Clarke discarding her surgery garments so she’s no longer covered in blood. She walks over with a huge smile and greets Octavia.

“Octavia Blake, I’m pleased to tell you that everything went according to plan.”

Octavia smiles, “So I still have a uterus?”

Clarke laughs, “You still have a uterus. All patched up and safe inside you. Now we keep an eye on your healing the same way we would for every C-section.”

“So I’m not all sliced-open anymore, either?”

Clarke shakes her head as she removes the curtain thing, revealing a gown-covered belly that is far less rounded than it was when she came in. I’m reminded of the time Clarke had to explain to me, after Alex was born, that the uterus takes a little while to shrink down again, and if I dared to ask her again if her belly was always going to be a little rounded, she would punch me in the throat.

Clarke sees me looking at O’s stomach and smirks, as if she knows exactly what I’m thinking. “It’ll be a little while before you get your abs back, Octavia. There’ll be a little pooch for a bit.”

O scoffs, “Yeah, I figured as much.” She follows Clarke’s smirking glance and looks at me blushing. She barks a laugh, “Oh yeah, I almost forgot about when Bellamy made an ass of himself asking if you would look pregnant forever!”

I roll my eyes, “Yeah, we all remember that… And that’s not exactly how I worded it.”

Clarke chuckles, “He never made that mistake again.” The post-op nurse comes in to bring Octavia to the post-surgery observation area. Clarke squeezes O’s hand, “I’ll see you in your room after my shift, okay?”

O grins widely, “Definitely.”

Clarke puts a hand on my forearm and says in a teasing voice, “Keep an eye on her. Who knows what kinda trouble she’ll cause.”  

O puts her hands up in a placating manner, “I’ll be on my best behavior, promise.”

Clarke laughs, “See you guys in a bit.” She gives me a grin as she walks out of the OR.

I look back down at Octavia who snorts, “Of course you’re checking out her ass as she walks away.” I roll my eyes, because I didn’t even realize I was doing it. She takes my hand and gives it a squeeze, “You’re allowed to stare at your fiancé’s ass.”

I nod, “She’s got a good ass.”

Octavia laughs, “Yeah, yeah. Now, stop being _an_ ass and let the nice nurses put me on the rolling bed.”

I step out of the way and they transfer O from the surgery table to the bed. I follow them to the recovery room where O gets to sip on some juice. She uses my phone to text Lincoln that everything went well, and he replies with updates on the babies, who are doing fine. He sends some pictures of them in their warmers, grasping onto Lincoln’s hand. He asks if she needs him to come up and be with her, but she replies with a very firm message along the lines of _“If you leave our kids alone down there, I will fight you.”_ O and I don’t have to hang out in recovery for long because they didn’t put her under full anesthesia. So, within the hour, we’re in a post-partum room, where O’s stuff is already waiting. I help set up the room with her things as she directs me on where to put each item.

After a few hours, O is able to move her legs enough to pivot into a wheelchair, which is when she demands to be taken downstairs to the NICU so she can see her children.

The nurse assistant who comes to take her vitals asks timidly, “Are you sure you don’t want to rest a bit? You’ve just had a major invasive surgery.”

Octavia gives her a glare that could melt steel, “I’m. Going. To. See. My. Sons. Do _not_ try and stop me.”

I chuckle, remembering when I made similar threats on Clarke’s behalf when they tried to take Alex from her. I tell the nervous assistant, “Just tell me how to get there, and I’ll wheel her, if that works for you.” She smiles and quickly gives us directions before leaving the room. We check in with the NICU desk and they lead us back to where the babies are. We spot Lincoln sitting in a large chair, shirtless, with a blanket over a lump on his chest, which I can only assume is an infant. I remember holding Alex skin-to-skin when she was a newborn, too. I found out Alex liked skin-to-skin only because she had thrown up on me, so I had to take off my shirt. Then when I picked her back up, I found that she seemed to like the skin contact. It turns out it’s great for regulating body heat, and bonding with a baby.

Lincoln’s eyes light up when he sees O.

Octavia reaches behind herself to smack at my arms while I her chair, “Hurry up, Bell!”

I scoff playfully, “What am I, your slave? You’ll get there when you get there. Jesus.”

I can see her impatiently fidgeting as we get closer. We come to a stop and I engage the brakes on the wheels. I look down and I see O’s eyes are glassy with tears as she watches her husband holding their son. I put my hand on her shoulder and she covers it with her own as we wait for Lincoln to right himself. He stands up, holding the still-covered baby close to his bare chest, and walks to Octavia. I realize too late that she’s opening up her gown, so I get an inadvertent eyeful of my sister’s sideboob and reflexively snap my eyes shut.

She must see me looking like an idiot, standing up with my eyes squeezed closed. She laughs, “Oh, grow up, Bellamy. They’re boobs. They’re feeding apparatuses at this point…” After a moment she tells me, “You can open your eyes again, I’m covered.”

I’m greeted by the image of my little sister crying silent tears, kissing her baby’s head as she cradles him close to her chest.

Lincoln speaks softly, “They’re both doing really well. They don’t even have to be under oxygen hoods, so they may let them come to the room with us sooner than we thought.”

I nod toward the one in O’s arms, “Which one is this?”

“That’s Julian.”

I nod, “He’s the one who wasn’t breathing?”

Lincoln nods, “That’s him.”

“He looks like he’s doing better.”

Octavia pipes up, “He just needed a little push.”

I hear the other one stirring and Lincoln automatically goes to pick him up. He’s all swaddled up in a bassinet. Sebastian and Julian aren’t connected to a bunch of wires like the other babies in here. They look a little out-of-place, to be honest.

“Do you want to hold him?” I nod and Lincoln hands me the bundled infant. He squints his eyes at me then closes them again and falls asleep. I remember this with Alex. They take a while to “unfold” after they’re born. I rock Sebastian for a while, gazing at his little face while he sleeps so peacefully. I can’t tell if he has any hair because it’s covered with a cap at this point. I look over at O, who has moved from the wheelchair to the large chair where Lincoln had been sitting. She’s getting help to feed Julian from the nurse that had come to get me from the OR.

Octavia makes a lighthearted plea with Julian, “Alright son, your brother figured this out fast. Can you do me a favor and follow his example?”

I chuckle, “When did Sebastian get a chance to figure it out?”

Octavia tilts her head at the nurse, “Fox helped him nurse while I was on the table in the OR, actually. IT was completely awkward and I couldn’t do much to help, but she maneuvered everything so he could at least get his first attempt. He only did about five minutes before falling asleep, though.”

I give the sleeping infant in my arms a squeeze and an approving nod, “Well done, nephew. Don’t tell your cousin Alex that, though. She’ll fight you on who the best breastfeeder was.”

Octavia snorts, “Yeah, if only they could all figure it out that fast. If I’m remembering correctly, Bellamy, didn’t you have something to do with that?”

I smirk, “Something like that.”

“Well, you’ll be my go-to lactation specialist, then.”

I laugh, “Fox will probably be better than me.”

Fox’s phone goes off and she answers it. She comes back and tells O, “It looks like he’s picking up on it. I have to go take care of something, but I’ll be back in about ten minutes. Will you be okay? Or do you want me to send another nurse in?”

O shakes her head, “We’ll be fine. We’ll see you when you get back.”

O directs her attention back to me, “How _did_ you know what to do?”

“I watched YouTube videos.”

She raises her eyebrow disbelievingly, “Really?”

I shrug, “I figured if there was one chance I’d get to mess with Clarke’s boobs, that would be it. So I thought I’d be prepared.” I smirk, “It paid off. And it was awesome.”

O laughs, “Devious… but obviously to Alex’s benefit.” I can see she’s having some frustrations with Julian, who keeps falling asleep and letting go. She rouses him a bit, but he falls asleep again almost immediately. “Come _on,_ Julian. Wake up and eat.”

“Try taking the blankets off of him.” She gives me an incredulous look, so I continue, “Seriously, he looks too comfortable. He’s not gonna stay awake if he’s all warm and cozy. His default setting is ‘sleep’ right now. Alex was the same way.” She frowns and I tilt my head to the side, “Just trust me.”

She peels one of the two blankets off, but he remains sound asleep, mouth slack on the nipple. I instinctively avert my eyes, because it’s Octavia, but at the same time, I _know_ what to do here, and I’d feel like an ass for withholding help just because I’m uncomfortable with my sister’s ‘feeding apparatuses.”

“O, you’ve gotta just take the last blanket off, because that kid is determined to sleep.”

“What if he gets too cold?”

I shake my head, “He won’t. He’s using you for body heat. Once he wakes up a bit and latches back on, then we’ll cover him with a light blanket to keep drafts away. But when he needs to eat, let’s lose the heavy blankets.”

Lincoln is furrowing his brows at me, so I ask, “What is it?”

He shakes his head, “Nothing, I just forget that you’ve done this before.”

I nod, “Huh. I guess I forget that, too.”

Octavia peels away the last blanket, much to Julian’s dismay. He frowns as he tenses back up and returns to his feeding task with renewed vigor. O barks out a laugh as he regains his latch, “Oh my god, Bell, you were right!” Smiling proudly, she strokes Julian’s arm where it’s resting over the top of her boob, “Good job, little guy.”  

She smiles as Lincoln hands her one of the thin receiving blankets to cover Julian from drafts. Just like I called it, he stayed awake long enough to nurse for about fifteen minutes, which was just enough time for Sebastian to decide he wanted to be fed. She handed Julian off to Lincoln while I unwrapped Sebastian and handed him to O so she could feed him on the other side.

“I should switch sides, right?”

I shrug my shoulders, “I don’t know a thing about feeding twins, O. Hopefully Fox will be back soon and she can help with that... But yeah, I think switching sides is universally advised. So do that.”

Octavia nods while Sebastian latches on. She yelps out, “OUCH! Sebastian, what the hell?”

I frown, “What happened?”

She hisses, “He’s like, biting me or something. It’s pinching and it hurts.” She keeps wincing.

“Is he still attached?”

She nods quickly with a pained expression on her face, “Okay, that’s not good. It shouldn’t be pinching, so that means his latch is wrong.” She scowls but doesn’t do anything. I sigh with a soft chuckle, “Well, take him off and start over.”

She pulls his head back, but he has a strong suction and won’t release. “What the hell, how do I get him off?”

“Use your pinky finger and shape it like a hook, then slip it into his cheek. That’ll get rid of the suction.” It works, and he lets go, only to start crying about it.

She scoffs in frustration, “Great, Bell. Now I’ve pissed him off! At least he was eating.”

I put a hand on her shoulder, “Calm down, or he’ll just get more upset.” She takes a deep breath while I tell her, “Now, he probably wasn’t eating. For one thing, there isn’t a lot coming out right now. But also, if it’s pinching, it means he isn’t sucking right. Then that means he’s not going to get much out, so he’ll suck harder and get angrier, and all the while, it’s hurting you. You don’t want to train him to do it wrong, you know?”

She huffs, “Training? Like the dogs?”

I laugh, “In a way, yeah.” I nod at Sebastian, “Now let him try again.”

Sebastian latches on quickly, this time not causing pain, and Octavia’s head falls back against the chair with a relieved smile, “Okay, good. That’s better.” She looks past me with a big smile, so I turn around to see Clarke leaning against the wall by the door with a big smile on her face. She’s back in her street clothes, her purse in hand, so she must be off shift now. It’s hard to believe that it’s been so many hours, but I glance out the window and see that the sky is getting lighter, so it must be getting on morning now.

She smiles as she walks toward me, “La Leche Bellamy at it again.” She wraps her arms around me while she tells O, “He always laughed at me when I told him he should come to La Leche meetings with me, but as you can see, he’s a damn natural at it.”

I smirk, “I know my way around breasts…”

O snorts amusedly, “You know he only learned all that so he could fondle you, right?”

Clarke smirks, “Oh, I’m aware.” She grins as she leans into my side, “But if he hadn’t, I could’ve bled out. Alex’s latch is what helped curb my hemorrhage.”

Lincoln frowns, “Breastfeeding?”

Clarke smiles, “Yeah. A good latch will stimulate the brain to make oxytocin, which is what helps the uterus contract and stems blood flow. So, when I was bleeding out, Alex saved my life by being such a great nurser. Bellamy helped her figure it out, and he held her there and shaped my breast because I was too weak to move my arms enough.”

I frown, “Huh. So, I kinda saved your life, too.”

Clarke looks up at me with a gentle smile, “Yeah, you did.”

I’m pretty sure I fail to suppress the instinct to puff out my chest with pride, because O laughs out loud, “Great. Just what we all need, for Bell to have more legitimate bragging rights.”

Clarke pats my chest, “I think we can let him have it.”

Lincoln shakes his head, “He can have all the pride he wants, I’m glad he’s on my speed dial.”

O agrees, “Yeah, me too.”

Clarke laughs, “Oh, so _I’m_ chopped liver, now?”

I shrug, “Eh, you got them out. Your part’s done. I’ll take over from here.”

She smacks at my chest playfully and laughs, “Hush.”

I kiss the crown of her head, “I’m kidding.”

She smiles, “I know.” She directs her attention to Lincoln and Octavia again, “So I was looking through their charts, and-”

O interrupts, “Ooooh, how much did they weigh?”

Clarke laughs, “Baby A, or Sebastian, was six pounds four ounces. And Julian was five pounds fifteen ounces.”

O’s jaw drops open. “That’s like, twelve pounds of human.”

Clarke nods, “Also, their Ballard score estimated their gestational age of 38 weeks.”

O laughs, “Holy shit, so we were that ‘off’ in calculations?”

Clarke shrugs, “Well, it was all a guestimate, remember? We measured things and made estimates off of those. But the Ballard score just means that they’ve matured as much as the average 38-weeker.”

O nods, “So, is that a good thing?”

“Well, yes, they were even more ready than we hoped for life outside the womb.”

O smiles, “Good. And I guess it’s good we went ahead with the delivery, too.”

Clarke huffs, “Yeah. You could have gone into labor any minute.”

Lincoln and O squeeze each other’s hands, “I’m glad everything worked out.”

Clarke looks up at me, “Me, too. Really glad.”

I squeeze my arm around her and I look back over at Lincoln and O. They make a poignant picture, each reclining in an oversized hospital chair holding their infants to their naked chests. I don’t think it’s a conscious positioning, but they’re leaning toward each other in their chairs, and the symmetry of it is beautiful.

We stay for a little while longer before a NICU nurse comes in and tells us that the pediatrician has cleared them to leave the NICU. After transferring them back up to O’s postpartum room, I see Clarke yawning. I’m reminded that she’s been here all night working, so she’s probably exhausted, too.

I tell O, “I’m gonna take Clarke home. Hopefully she can just leave her car in the garage, because she does _not_ look like she’s up for driving.”

O nods, “Yeah, she’s looking tired.”

I ruffle her hair, “You could use some sleep, too. Enjoy all this quiet time while they’re still sleeping. That’ll all change soon.”

O chuckles, “Advice taken, big brother.”

“I’ll see you later today.”

She nods, “Thanks, Bell.”

I nod, “Of course.”

She smiles, “For everything. For being here, and staying here. And helping me feed my children, even though you didn’t want to see my boobs.”

I laugh, “You’ll do fine, O.”

“I know. But still, thank you.”

“You’re my sister. I’ll always be here for you.”

She smiles, “I know. I love you Bellamy.”

I kiss the top of her head, “I love you, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So we've met the Linctavia twins :) For those of you who wanted more drama or angst: I'm sorry, I'm not gonnna put Octavia through any more heartache than she's already had to deal with. I'm not a monster ;)  
> Oh, and there are about a million hospital protocols in place that would prevent a doctor from operating on a family member. But you know, drama. Just fyi. 
> 
> We'll have a return of smut next chapter. I'm also polishing the next chapter of "I'll Give You All Kinds of New Material" (The Pornstar!Bellamy AU), so keep an eye out for that, as well! 
> 
> As always, thank you for your REVIEWS! If I haven't responded to one you've left, keep looking, I'll be finishing up replies soon! 
> 
> If you're enjoying this, please hit that KUDOS button!!! 
> 
> Last but not least, THANK YOU for reading! I look forward to hearing what you guys think!


	49. i'm in, princess

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke and Bellamy attain a new depth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off: as always, THANK YOU GUYS SO MUCH for your wonderful support! You guys are what make writing really enjoyable. Please, keep the feedback coming. I'll be replying to all of your awesome comments after I post these, so if you haven't heard back yet, expect one soon :) 
> 
> Please, PLEASE keep those COMMENTS and KUDOS coming! It's hard to believe that I've racked up over 1100 of them! So, please, click that kudos button! And, your comments give me life. It's seriously one of the most awesome things to open up my inbox and find notifications of you guys' reviews. It always makes my day :) 
> 
> This chapter is close to my heart because it approaches a profound concept that's frequently misunderstood, thanks to misrepresentation in the media, erotica, etc. Now, I won't kink-shame - people can totally make this a forceful/rough activity, and to each their own. But, there's also a reverent approach to it, which is what I've portrayed here. Clarke and Bellamy will attain a greater depth in their relationship with it. 
> 
> I liked how this one came out, and I hope you guys do, as well. 
> 
> This is part one of two - Bellamy's POV is next. 
> 
> **TW**  
> There is kink here, but it's not freaky, and like I said before, this is a reverent and gentle approach.
> 
> EDIT: When I first posted this, I totally forgot to shout out to my beta, [Amber](http://bilexualclarke.tumblr.com) Thank you, babe!!!

 [Clarke POV]

 

Sebastian and Julian’s arrival was merely the beginning of a long shift. I had to dictate a very detailed description of Octavia’s procedure and outcome, not only for the medical record, but because Walsh and I plan to submit it as a case study to academic journals. I finished with that just in time to attend three more vaginal births, as well as another emergency C-section. Needless to say, I was exhausted by the end of the night.

I came into the NICU see Bellamy helping Octavia while she nursed Sebastian, and my chest squeezed at the memory of how he helped me when Alex was born. To see a man understand lactation is rare, to be honest. But, somehow it doesn’t surprise me that _Bellamy_ gets it. He’s always been good with teaching, so it makes sense that he’s able to help others. I was only sort of joking about “La-Leche-Bellamy.” He wouldn’t come to La Leche League meetings with me because he didn’t think he’d fit in, which is probably true. It’s a women’s group for the most part. But still, I felt like he deserved some recognition for being such a strong supporter. I was able to nurse Alex for three and a half years, but I don’t know that I would have gotten to three days if it hadn’t been for Bellamy’s encouragement. I knew when I gave birth to her that I _wanted_ to try breastfeeding. Medically, I knew the numerous benefits. But I didn’t want to set myself up for disappointment, so I didn’t count on it happening.

I didn’t know nearly enough about _how_ to do it. I put it off, thought I’d have time to read up on breastfeeding later. Then Alex came early, and I floundered. But thankfully, Bellamy was there to be my champion. For starters, he helped her attain that life-saving latch right after she was born. After that, I had the help of a lactation consultant in the hospital, but all of her lessons seemed to go right out the window when we went home. I remember sitting in my living room, feeling completely lost, with a screaming infant who couldn’t latch onto my rock-hard breasts because they were too over-engorged. My milk production was in full-swing, and they were _too_ full because I had let her wait too long between feedings. She was frustrated, which made me frustrated. And they _hurt like hell._ I hated it, and I was ready to throw in the towel. My exact words were “Fuck the miracles of breastfeeding.”

But then, Bellamy... He never made me feel like I failed Alex when I mixed up that bottle of formula. I had to, because she needed to eat _something_ and I couldn’t figure out why the goddamn breast pump wasn’t working. That’s how I learned that Alex absolutely abhorred the taste of formula. She wouldn’t drink it. Bellamy came over just in time, his brain filled with all of the lactation consultant’s tips that apparently _he_ was able to remember. He gave me a heating pad and a hot washcloth to help with the painful engorgement, and while he flipped through the breast pump manual, I fell asleep with Alex in my arms. I woke up shortly to Alex rooting around. Bellamy had apparently nudged me awake enough for me to pull my own top open, but I didn’t fully wake up until I felt the tug of Alex nursing. We came to the conclusion that once I relaxed, Alex calmed down enough to try again.

I chuckle at the memory of his awkward suggestion, “Uh, massaging them will help.” I raised an eyebrow and he blushed a furious shade of red when he sputtered out, “I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to- I just read- Shit, I can leave the room-” My modesty had gone completely out the window by that point, and I will never forget his wide-eyed expression when I got right to “work” massaging my own breasts. He was right, it worked wonders. I’ll be honest, I was feeling less than attractive a few days post-partum, but it was a hell of a confidence booster to see his dumbfounded expression when it came to my boobs…

Seeing Bellamy help Octavia reminded me that he’s a natural with kids. After we moved the new family up to Octavia’s postpartum room, I caught sight of Bellamy with a baby in his arms. And Holy. Fucking. Shit. I swear to god my ovaries were doing flips. Jokes about “biological imperatives” be damned, I wanted that man’s baby inside of me. In an attempt to cover up the lust that roiled through me, I decided to yawn. Over, and over again. I needed to do _something_ to stifle the urge to launch myself across the room at him….

 

So, here I am. I’ve managed to rein in my libido long enough to get to the car so Bellamy can drive us home. I’m seated on the passenger side, my eyes scanning the road for a place to pull off, because I’m about to fucking explode here.

I point at an empty lot that used to be a strip mall, but is now just a row of ramshackle buildings, “There. Pull the car in there.”

Bellamy glances over at me, alarmed, “Is everything okay?”

I shout, “ _Just pull over!”_

He quickly steers the car into the empty lot, and I point at a spot in a secluded area that faces away from the street. He shifts the car into park and turns to face me, “What is go-”

I fiercely attach my lips to his as I crawl into his lap, and he takes only about half a second to catch up with me. He brings his thumb to my chin, kisses me so deeply that I feel like I might drown in him. I reach down to press the button to lower the back of the seat so that the steering wheel doesn’t jab me in the spine. We break apart for a moment and I take in the cocky grin on his face.

His voice takes a teasing tone, “What’s gotten into you?”

I smile knowingly and decide to _not_ answer his question. I suckle the side of his neck while his hands make their way under my shirt and his palms spread across my back. I glance at the cold storm as it pours down outside, thankful the car is running and the heat is on. It makes me think of a song, and I quickly pull away from Bellamy for a second to grab my phone.

He frowns, somewhat breathless “What are you doing?”

I give him a smirk as I tap on my screen, “Music.”

I toss my phone back into the passenger seat as _Night Drive_ by Jimmy Eat World plays through the car speakers. The wonders of technology…

“Holy shit, I remember this song.”

I grin, “Yeah, I’ve always wanted to have car sex to this song.” I fiercely slant my mouth back over his, and whatever was on the tip of his tongue is forgotten as we get lost in each other again. I make quick work of his zipper and palm his already-hard cock through the fabric of his boxer briefs. He unzips my pants and I gracelessly attempt to slide them off. Instead, I hit my head on the car window. I can’t help but join in when he breaks down in a fit of laughter.  

After I catch my breath I smack at him playfully, “You’re supposed to be making my car sex dreams come true.”

He raises an eyebrow and cocks his head toward the back of the SUV as he pushes a button so the seats fold flat.  

I nod approvingly, “That’s better.” He smacks my ass as I crawl between the front seats and land in the back, thankful that we keep throw blankets in the back for when Alex gets cold. I shimmy out of my pants while he goes out the driver’s side door to get to the back. He dives into the car and I’m on him as soon as the door slams shut.

He doesn’t have a chance to right himself before I’ve straddled him flat on his back. I admonish him playfully, “ _Finally_. Jesus, it’s like you don’t even wanna get laid.”

He laughs and his fingers are ice cold when they make their way under my shirt again. I shriek against his lips in surprise.

Bellamy looks apologetic, “Sorry. It’s cold out there.”

I laugh and shake my head, “I think we’ll have to find a way to warm you up.” Before long, his hands leave heated trails along my skin until I’ve forgotten about the frigidity altogether. As his fingers make his way to my heat, they might as well be on fire… I reach my own hands into his pants, which we haven’t bothered to remove, and I pull out his erect cock. I feel him slide a finger easily into me, then two, before I smack his hand away.

“I just need you in me _now._ ”

He doesn’t have a moment to protest before I sink down onto him. My eyes slam shut as he fills me completely. His hands find their way to my hips when I start to move in a sinuous rhythm, his fingers dig bruises into my flesh. One of my hands finds its way under my shirt and bra to tweak and pull at my breasts while his thumb presses on my clit in perfect rhythm with our movements.

My hips speed up the tempo as I chase release, “God, is this ever _not_ going to feel fucking incredible?”

He shakes his head with a smirk, “Doubtful.” I take pride in the choked sound of his voice.

My laugh is breathless, “Oh, god…” I snake my free hand down behind me and take the opportunity to roll his balls in my hands. I’m rewarded with powerful thrusts of his hips as he fucks into me from below.

“Fuck, keep doing that!”

His thumb on my clit threatens to unravel me fast, “Fuck, Bellamy, I’m gonna-!”

His groans are barely contained as he tightens his grip on my hip and his thumb is relentless over my swollen bundle of nerves, “Come for me!”

His command sends me straight over the edge and I’m seized by overwhelming pleasure. We ride waves of frenzy as his thrusts become erratic and wild until he shudders with one final thrust. There’s something tremendous about his dominating grip as he holds me down on top of him while he spills everything inside of me… it’s like my body wants to milk him harder for it.

I collapse on top of him, both of us still clothed from the waist up. I rake my fingers through his scalp while he trails his fingers up and down my back as our breaths return to normal. The roar of the raindrops as they hit the roof of the car almost lulls me to sleep.

I hear Bellamy’s smug voice, “This is because of the babies, isn’t it?”

I huff against his neck, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He chuckles, “Oh really? So those little bundles of joy have nothing to do with this impromptu roadside fuck?”

I prop my forearms on top of the planes of his chest, “Oh those?” I smile with a shrug, “Inconsequential.”

He nods, “Well, that’s a relief. Because I definitely wasn’t having to restrain myself while you were holding Julian at the hospital.”

I bark out a laugh and give him a knowing grin, “And I totally didn’t feel like jumping you in the hospital room while you were holding Sebastian.”

He smirks, “O and Lincoln are lucky we have such self-control.”

I nod with a very serious expression before we both break down into a fit of laughter. We’re interrupted by a loud BANG of thunder, and I’m reminded that we’re in a car and the pounding of the rain on the roof of the car becomes nearly deafening.

I sigh as I lift myself off of him and start to redress, “We should get home. I really am exhausted, and I can imagine you are, too.”

He chuckles, “Yeah, I’m tired, too. Oh, I almost forgot to tell you, Nate and Jane picked up the dogs for us when I told them what was going on with O.”

I breathe a sigh of relief, “Oh thank god. I really want sleep, and I wasn’t sure if that was going to happen with three puppies chomping at the bit for attention.”

After Bellamy is close enough to dressed, he gets back out of the car and darts back into the driver’s seat while I crawl back through the front. He shakes the water from his head like a dog, and I give him a glare.

He just grins, “We’ll get rest this afternoon. I don’t have to go in today. We’re on holiday.”

I smile, “Oh that’s right – it’s Christmas Eve. Oh shit, we should call Alex.”

He nods, “Agreed.”

 

I turn off the playlist and dial Alex’s cell number. She picks up on the second ring.

“OH MY GOD DO I HAVE COUSINS YET?”

I laugh, “Actually, yes. They were born last night. Sorry we didn’t call before now.”

She sighs dramatically, “God mom, why didn’t you call me from the OR while you were delivering them?” I’m glad I get my kid’s sarcasm. She knew the circumstances of the delivery would be surgical, and I’m thankful she’s doesn’t actually feel slighted for not being the first phone call.  

I chuckle, “I’m glad you understand.”

Alex giggles, “Of course. So what do they look like?”

Bellamy frowns, “Uh, they look like babies?”

She groans, “Ugh, you know what I’m asking! Are they cuter than I was?”

I laugh out loud, “Oh my god, of course you’d ask that!”

Bellamy answers for me, since I’m doubled over in laughter, “They’re the same amount of cute that you were. I can say that because I was there.”  

She huffs, “Just making sure.”

I cough, “Right.”

“When do I get to meet them?”

I think about it a second, “Well, it’s Christmas Eve. Bellamy and I were up all night, so we’re going back home to get some sleep. But, we were going to go back this evening if Lincoln and O are up for it. Do you want to come with us?”

Alex shrieks, “OF COURSE I DO! GOD!”

I laugh, “Relax. Awesome. We’ll give your dad and Jane a call when we know more.”

I can still hear her squealing on the other end, “Awesome! OH, what are their names?”

Bellamy answers, “Julian and Sebastian.”

Alex sounds approving, “Hmm. I like them.”

We are pulling into the garage as the conversation comes to a close, “Okay, Alex. We’re home now, so we’re gonna let you go, okay?”

“Alright. Sleep well. And I CAN’T WAIT TO SEE THE BABIES!!!”

Bellamy and I say together, “Bye, Alex.”

“BYE!” Then she hangs up.

I barely remember changing into pajamas before I fall into bed and succumb to a deep and much-needed sleep.

 

* * *

 

 

I wake up to Bellamy’s lips trailing softly along the expanse of my back. I shiver as I unsuccessfully attempt to stifle a moan, and I feel him smile against my skin.

I can hear the lightness in his voice, “Now you’re awake.”

I smile, eyes still closed, “What time is it?”

“Six-thirty.”

I sigh, “So we’ve been asleep for…”

“Nine hours.”

I take another deep breath, “Are we gonna go see O and Lincoln soon?”

“I just got off the phone with Lincoln. They’re exhausted, and they want to have some quiet time to themselves tonight, so we’re gonna hold off the visit until tomorrow.”

I nod, “Christmas day visit, then.”

He smiles, “Yeah. And I already talked to Nate and Jane, and then Alex got on the phone and lectured me about getting children excited about things and then letting them down.”

I roll my eyes, “Oh lord, did she throw a fit?”

He laughs, “No, not really. I mean, she was kind of disappointed, but she understood.”

“Good.”

“Nate, Jane, and Alex are coming in the morning, then I thought we’d go visit Lincoln and O before we go to your mom’s for Christmas dinner?”

I nod, “That sounds like a good plan to me.”

He grins, “Good. And you know what that means?”

“Um, no?”

He whispers in my ear, “We have the entire house to ourselves tonight.”

I shiver at his words and can’t suppress my excited smile. I roll over onto my back and stretch my arms above my head. I suddenly see that Bellamy is shirtless, and I feel a rush of arousal roll through my body.

His grin is cocky, “Wow, Clarke. I feel like a piece of meat.”

I bite my lip with a growl, “Consider me a predator.”

He raises an eyebrow at my ridiculous line and we both laugh so hard my sides are in stitches. After the laughs subside, I pull him on top of me and he claims my mouth with a toe-curling kiss. I lose myself in _Bellamy,_ the planes of muscle as his body covers mine, his fingers as they trail along my skin, his lips as they graze the shell of my ear… Just, _him._

He breaks the kiss to prop himself on his elbows and hovers above me, “Do you trust me?”

I nod, “Always. You know that.”

He rises off of me with a nod, then pulls me up into a sitting position.

His gaze is steady, “I want to take you to a deeper place.” He continues after a brief pause to search my eyes, “I won’t go past your limits, you know that. But, I’m going to push you farther than I ever have.”

My heart begins to race at the prospect of whatever he may ask. I consider his words for a moment, “What am I going to do?”

Bellamy looks at me thoughtfully, “Your body is going to accept my entire hand.”

I take a deep breath while I give him a thoughtful look. I carefully examine his serious features. Maybe it’s because I’m an obstetrician, but the whole concept of fisting isn’t exactly scary for me. I witness daily the fact that the female body is able to tolerate very _sizable_ objects without issue. But it’s clear that Bellamy takes this very seriously, so I school my features. I don’t want to minimize whatever he feels about this.

I nod slowly, “You mentioned it a few weeks ago. I remember.”

“I remember, too.” He holds my hand in his, “You seemed open to it then, but I wasn’t sure how much of that reaction was a product of your state of mind.”

I crack a smile, “Ah, yes… I was pretty blissed out at the time. But I do remember. And I still am… Open to it, I mean.”

He regards me with reverence, “I’m glad.”

I give him a reassuring smile, “I’m not frightened by it. The physical mechanics of it don’t scare me.” I chuckle, “Not to get too graphic, but I fit an entire child through there once, so I’m pretty sure I’m capable of taking your hand.”

He laughs lightly, “That’s true.”

I nudge his leg with mine, “You were there, too, if I remember correctly.”

He cups my face with his hands and tilts my head so I look at him. The expression on his face is so incredibly _sweet_ and the love in his eyes absolutely floors me. I close my eyes while he presses his lips to my forehead.

He pulls away again to look me in the eye, “Being unafraid of the physical act will make it easier for us to access the psychological and spiritual elements of the experience.” I can tell he wants to say more, so I wait patiently for him to continue. “There’s more than just the physical aspect at play. There’s a… symbolism to it. And this has the potential to be a more powerful experience than anything we’ve ever done.”  

I nod with a furrowed brow, “Okay.” Curious, I ask, “Have you done this before?”

He nods, “I have. Once.” Before I can ask, he says, “It wasn’t Echo.” I find that I’m no longer bothered by his past with her. Echo was his _then_. I’m his _now_ , and I know that his feelings for me are deeper than they ever were for her. I’m legitimately curious about his experience, though.

“What was it like?”

He sighs, “It was… deep. For her, especially. It caused a serious shift in our balance. I went into it with a far more cavalier mindset than I should have, and the act brought to the surface a need on her part that I wasn’t ready or willing to meet.”

I press my lips together, “So, it’s… emotional.”

He nods, “To put it lightly. At the time, I did it thinking, ‘Okay, she wants to see if she can attain this physical feat,’ but neither of us anticipated the psychological depth of the experience. We had to end our relationship after that, because I couldn’t meet her needs.” He sighs, “In that way, I failed her as a Dom.”

“Is that what you’re worried about? Failing _me_?”

He shakes his head, “No.” His smile is gentle, “I know, with every fiber of my being that it’s what I want with you.”

I smile, “It’s what I want, too. If it deepens our relationship, I absolutely want it with you.”

He strokes my cheek with his thumb briefly before dropping his hand to my side, “Good. I just want us on the same page.”

I chuckle, “The name of it kind of sounds awful, though. _Fisting?_ When I think of it, I can’t decide whether to laugh or cringe.”

He tilts his head, “Yeah, it kind of sounds...”

I finish for him, “…Violent?” I shrug with a chuckle, “Like, it makes it sound like you’re gonna punch someone in the crotch.”

He shakes his head, “Yeah, that’s not what it is at all…” He pauses and frowns for a moment, like he’s lost in a visual, “I mean, people can certainly make it that way, and I guess to each their own, you know?”

I nod understandingly, “Don’t yuck someone else’s yum.”

He smirks, “Exactly. But that’s not what we’re doing.”

“So, if you’re not punching me in the vag…”

He coughs with a surprised laugh, “Jesus…”

I laugh, “Okay, okay, sorry! It’s just, hard to get past that image, especially when it’s called _fisting_.”

He’s quiet. Not angry, not sullen, or even bothered. Just… calm and collected. I correct my posture to show him I’m ready to engage in a serious conversation about this. “I’m done. All humor aside, what’s it… like?”

“Well, it’s gradual. No… punching.” He grimaces at the word _punching._

I snort again, but quickly compose myself. “Okay, no punching.”

He cracks a small chuckle before he continues, “Like I was saying, it’s gradual. I’ll start with just a finger, then two, adding more as you become ready for them. My hand is introduced slowly. The fist doesn’t form until it’s inside you, after your body has fully accepted my hand.”

I see the rise and fall of my chest in my peripheral vision as my breaths shorten in arousal. “So, you’ll go slow?”

He nods, “As slow as we need. We might not even get it the first time.”

I look down at his hand as it cradles mine and my eyes widen as I consider that the entirety of it will be inside of me. I find myself suddenly stunned by the possibility. Again, I’ve fit a child through there, so that’s not the intimidating factor. It’s…

His other hand comes back to my cheek, “Are you okay?”

I snap my gaze back to his, “Yeah. Yeah, I’m good. I just… I don’t know. It seems suddenly daunting.”

“If you don’t want to, we don’t have to do this.”

I shake my head and bring my hand to cover his, “No. I want to. I just realized that it’s not like doing a cervical check at work. And, I think, up until this moment, that’s how I considered the act whenever I thought about it in passing.” I huff, “Like, I technically have my hand up in a lady’s business on a regular basis, but it’s obviously never been a sexual thing. It’s been an ‘I’m checking to see if you’re fully dilated’ thing. Very different.”

He nods, “Very.”    

I continue, “And I guess my whole hand isn’t usually up there, either.” I make a gesture in the air as if I’m performing a cervical check: push two fingers forward, then scissor them out across an imaginary cervical opening… All of a sudden I’m _overwhelmed_ by thoughts of last night’s stress, and how tense I’ve been, the ache in my neck from my earlier anxiety threatens to make a return… Okay, I need to get my head out of work because that’s clearly where I’m stuck right now.

As if he can read my mind, he catches my hand in the air and gently closes my fanned-out fingers, “Hey, hey… come back to me. You’re not at work right now.” His body language becomes assertive – spine straight, chest broad, jaw set… I can see where this is going. I desperately want to let go, and he can see it. He knows what I need and when I see the recognition in his eyes, a sense of relief floods my body.

“You’re right.” I cast my eyes down to the floor in a docile gesture, “I’m sorry, Sir.”

He tilts my chin to face him and holds me in his gaze, “Princess, this is new, but you’re always safe with me.”

I nod, “I know.”

“You can call it at any time, just say the word.”

“I know. Red to stop. Yellow to slow down.” I look back up at him, “Are we doing it right now?”

He shakes his head and brushes his lips against my cheek, “No. We need to relax. Let’s take a shower and clean up. We’ll start there.”

I nod as he stands up out of bed, then takes my hand and pulls me to my feet with him. I follow behind him to the shower, and after he turns the water on, he turns around and undresses me carefully before divesting himself of his own clothes. After a gentle kiss to the forehead, he pulls me with him into the shower, where he begins to caress my skin. Light touches along the planes of my abdomen. His fingers skate up my sides until he gets to my neck, then he pulls my hair out of the messy bun as he turns us so that I’m underneath the water. I pick up a loofah and reach to put some shower gel into it, but he shakes his head and takes both items out of my hands.

“Relax, Princess. I’ll take care of you.”

I sigh, “Thank you.” My soul feels lighter as I anticipate the respite he affords me. I was unaware of just how much tension was built up inside of me. I lean against him while he gently cleanses my skin. He takes extra care around my nether regions. I love the cream cleanser I found – no soap ingredients, so it won’t irritate the sensitive skin around my cunt. Not to mention, it smells heavenly. I try to return the favor and wash him, but he smiles with another shake of his head, so I lean back against the shower wall to rake my eyes over his lean, wet form while he cleanses his own skin. And _god_ , he’s a sight to behold… My gaze zeroes-in on his erection, like it always does, and when he catches me looking, an insufferable smirk stretches across his freckled face.

As if he can sense my impatience, he chuckles, “Soon, Princess. Have patience.”

I duck my head with a blush, “Yes, Sir.”

He steps closer to me and crowds me into the tile wall. His lips graze the shell of my ear, “We’ve got all night.”

A shiver shoots through my entire body and I can’t suppress the serene smile that graces my features. He switches the water off and steps out of the shower, then holds his hand out so I can follow him. The soft warmth of the towel as he pats my skin dry is a familiar comfort. He wraps me up in a robe, then does the same with himself before leading me out to the bedroom. I stop halfway to the bed.

“Thank you.”

He smiles, “For what?”

I shrug, “For taking care of me like that. I don’t think I remember to say thank you when you do it. So, thank you.”

His gentle expression makes my heart skip a beat, “I like doing it. And I’m glad you enjoy it, too.” He pulls me close to him and cups my face for a gentle kiss.

“You feeling relaxed, still?”

I chuckle, “Yes and no.” He gives me a look, like he wants further explanation, so I continue, “Well, I’m _physically_ very relaxed. But I’m really excited about tonight. So…”

Bellamy nods, “Good.” He opens our “fun drawer” and pulls out a box of gloves, and the magic wand vibrator. I see to the side that Bellamy has already plugged in the lube warmer, which is actually just the old warmer I had for Alex’s baby wipes. It warms anything in the box up to perfect body temperature. I open the top up and see that he’s put the cherry-flavored lube in there, as well as a bottle of Astroglide. He tosses me a few waterproof bed liners (“chux”), as well as a sheet to go over them, because I’m not a fan of the aesthetic effect of chux pads. And, I don’t like them sticking to my legs. While I set those up on the bed, Bellamy disappears into the bathroom and comes back out with a pouch full of nail clippers and files. I raise an eyebrow in question.

“Is it time for a manicure?”

He smirks, “You of all people should know the importance of short nails and well-kept hands.”

I nod, “Good point.” He works on his hand with some cuticle clippers, and seems to fumble a bit with it when they’re in his non-dominant hand.

“Need a hand?”

He nods, “Sure,” and places the clippers in my hand. I lightly trace the boundaries of his large hand with my fingers while I inspect for hangnails. When I find a few, I cut them close so they don’t jut out and scrape me. He’s right, I don’t want anything to cause damage to my inner walls, and hangnails or jagged nail edges would do just that. Satisfied with his right hand, I repeat the treatment on his left hand. With his free hand, he leaves light touches along various places on my body. Nothing forward or even suggestive, just _contact_. He hands me a nail file and I make sure the edges of his nails on both hands are all smooth and short. Afterwards, I massage a hypoallergenic hand cream into his skin. The whole routine is very… relaxing. Since he’s already spent the entire night with a focus on my needs, it makes me feel better that I can do something for him, too.

After I’ve completely massaged the cream into his hands, I press my lips to them, as if to signal that I’m finished. I look up at him and I’m almost stunned by the tenderness in his eyes. We’ve both been quiet so far – the only sound in the room is the soft music in the background.

After so much quietude, I almost startle myself with my own voice, “What now?”

He sets the manicure set to the side, then tells me “Lie back on the pillows.”

As I scoot back to the center of the bed, he plugs the vibrator into an extension cord and brings it over along with the gloves.

I twist my mouth to the side, “Are the gloves a necessity?”

He shakes his head, “No, but they make things more smooth. It can make it easier.”

I think about that for a second. I’m not _opposed_ to “easier,” but… “What if I just want to feel your skin against mine inside of me?”

He tosses the box of glove to the side with a soothing smile, “Then that’s what I’ll give you.”

I nod, “Okay. Cool…” I wring my hands, then stop myself because I don’t need to fidget right now. “So now what?”

He smiles as he presses his lips to my shoulder, “Shhh… stop thinking. Just _feel_.” I let my hands go slack as he leaves open-mouth kisses along my collar bone then in a long line up my neck. I close my eyes and drop my head back against the pillows while I luxuriate in the sensations of his tongue swirling along my skin as he explores my entire body. He doesn’t approach my pussy at first. Instead, he focuses his attentions on my hands and arms, then my belly. His trailing fingers tease their way along until he reaches my breasts, where he tantalizes my sensitive flesh. He licks and sucks my nipples until they glisten, and then blows puffs of warm air over them until they pebble up at full attention. My fingers tangle themselves into his inky curls as he nips and sucks his mark into the underside of my right breast.

Only after I’ve keened and begged does he move his efforts down to where I _really_ want him.

“Open your legs, wide.” His commanding voice manages to feel like a safety net as it surrounds me. I comply and he positions himself between my knees. He nibbles lightly a trail over my belly, follows his fingers as they brush along my mound. I gasp and buck my hips into his mouth when he drags his lithe tongue along my outer lips. When he spreads an assertive palm over my belly, I can’t bite back my moans at the thought of being held down.

“Please!”

Bellamy sucks one of my pussy lips into his mouth and shakes his head, pulls it taut with each movement of his head. I arch my back slightly, but upon hearing another command to calm down, I will myself to relax back into the mattress… That’s one of the best things about foreplay with Bellamy. It’s never just a means to an end with him, but an experience in and of itself. I feel his tongue sneak its way between my sensitive lips as it teases the flesh near my clit (without, of course, actually touching my clit – that relief would be far too sweet…). With one hand, he separates my pussy lips, and there’s something so erotic about the act of being _held open_. My heart races with the knowledge that penetration is imminent, I feel my inner muscles involuntarily clench in anticipation. A broken sigh escapes me when I feel his tongue trace around the edges of my slit before he dips his tongue _into_ me, and my body practically vibrates with desire for more.

“I’m giving you one finger, now.”

Okay, the announcement for a single finger may have been unnecessary, but now as I eagerly await its blessed intrusion, I realize the purpose was to create a sense of anticipation. My breaths come in ragged sighs as he thoroughly explores my cunt. I moan gratefully when he adds a second finger, but my body aches for more. He uses his digits to massage and stretch my inner walls, applying gentle but delicious pressure as he works to widen my opening. He announces a third finger, his voice deep and graveled, and I swear my soul writhes with need. My pussy is doused with slippery lube, and the slick sensation is absolutely exhilarating. As he inserts his third finger, I feel him stretch me wide. He uses his thumb to massage my perineum while his tongue engages my throbbing clit with soft, gentle strokes.

“Oh my _god_ , that’s…” My chest heaves with each breath as my body searches for oxygen.

Bellamy lifts his face away from my cunt to demand, “Tell me, Princess.”

“Your fingers are stretching me open, Sir.” He twists his fingers inside of me and the rasp of my voice almost shocks me, “You’re getting my body ready to take your hand…”

“Good girl. How does it make you feel?” He places soft kisses along my inner thighs and circles his tongue in the hollow of my hips.

I pause for a second to think of my answer, “Excited, Sir.”

I feel him grin against my thigh, “Good. I’m glad.” He continues his efforts, “Your body is _so responsive_ right now…” He nibbles along my mound before he continues, “You’re so wet, Princess.” My whole body shudders at his words and I hear soft laughs escape both of us. “Are you ready for a fourth finger?”

I nod furiously, “Please, my cunt, it’s…” My hands fist themselves into the sheets as my voice trails off.

Bellamy speaks softly against my pussy, “What about your cunt, Princess. Finish that sentence.”

“It… it _needs_ … I need more of your hand.” He obliges with his fourth finger. I curl my torso to look down where his hand seeks entrance into my body while his fingers widen me even further. My mouth drops open at the image that greets me. The contrast between my flushed rosy color of my pussy and the dark complexion of his beautiful hand is breathtaking. “Oh my god. Oh. God.” I can’t seem to come up with any other words at the moment… He picks up the magic wand and rests it on top of my mound.

“I’m gonna turn this on. As I add my thumb and your cunt stretches to take the widest part my hand, it might be… uncomfortable. The vibrations will give you pleasure to distract you from the discomfort.”

I nod, stunned, “Okay, yeah. Do that.” I’m past feeling embarrassed by my pants and gasps at this point. Excitement surges through me as I anticipate his promises. When he turns the wand on, he rolls it around over my mound until it lands on a spot that sends my whole body surging up into it with a loud, “Oh _GOD!”_

Bellamy chuckles, “The wand is stimulating the hidden part of your clit… does it feel good?”

I nod, unable to verbalize my agreement. He’s correct – The clit is long organ, and its buried length is typically forgotten in favor of the ultra-sensitive exposed head. But when attention is paid to the hidden portion, _oh god,_ it’s incredible. The deep, rolling vibrations of the wand send me into a state of bliss, and I vaguely register that he’s pouring more lube onto his hand to coat the entirety of the appendage.

“Use one hand to keep the wand in place, okay?”

I nod, still mesmerized by the sensations that flood my body as I bring my hand up to keep the wand in place. I seem can’t get sentences out, but I can manage single words. “ _More_ …” My lungs pull air in sharp gasps, my body begs for more. “I need _more.”_

His hand takes the shape of a duck bill as he tucks his thumb next to the rest of his fingers. He gently pushes forward, watches my face carefully for signals of whether to continue.

I nod feverishly, “ _Please!”_

Bellamy’s gaze travels from my cunt to my eyes, and the devotion in his expression has me speechless. “Fuck, Princess… You’re so goddamn beautiful… You have no idea how fucking hot this is.”

The sound that escapes me is something between a laugh and a sob, and it evolves into a full-blown growl when I feel him gently open me up some more. There’s a slight sting as he advances his hand, but it’s easily forgotten as the wand sends rumbling vibrations to the best parts of my cunt.

His voice soothes me, “You’re almost there… Breathe for me…” I follow his directions and allow myself to slacken the tension in my pussy. I feel him add more lube, and it’s probably making the biggest fucking mess, but I can’t bring myself to give a damn.

“Oh god, fuck, jesus, holy fuck, shit…” a long string of obscenities escapes my mouth as I embrace the fullness to come. “Please… _more.”_

His voice is both commanding and tender as he tells me, “Relax your cunt, Princess… Accept me.”

I visualize the dissipation of the tension in my inner walls, and with a sigh, largest portion of his hand finally eases through.

“I’m in, Princess.” His voice _worships_ me, “My whole hand is inside you.”

Bellamy is inside of me in the deepest way I could ever have imagined. I don’t think anything could have prepared me for what I feel right now. He stops his movements to allow my body to adjust to this new and thrilling penetration.

I gasp, “Your whole fist… it’s inside… of me.”

With a satisfied grin, I rest a hand over my abdomen, and I can vaguely _feel_ Bellamy under my palm. His gaze snaps up to mine when I press down more firmly and meet his fist where it’s rooted inside of me.

I reach for him, "Give me your hand."  I wrap my fingers around his wrist and place his hand, palm-down, on my stomach.  I cover it with mine and press down so that his own palm meets his fist, just like mine did.  "Feel that?" 

Bellamy nods slowly as his lips part, and I can see love and lust warring for dominance in his expression. My breaths become inexplicably heavy, and I can’t pin down _why._ I open my eyes and lock my gaze with Bellamy’s, then allow his awe to surround me. I curl my body again so I can look down at my cunt, and… Holy. Shit. To see how completely connected he is to me? It’s indescribable. I can feel the beat of my pulse surrounding his hand as my inner walls embrace him.  

“My god. You’re fucking _breathtaking_ …” He smiles with an awed expression, “You feel incredible around me. Absolutely exquisite.”

I can’t seem to voice anything but licentious growls and throaty moans in response to his praises. I gasp, astonished, when I feel his fist expand slightly, then shrink again. Like he’s clenching and unclenching. _Oh god…_ I want _more_.

“Do it… _Please_.”

His voice rumbles through my entire being, “What do you want me to do, Princess?”

I breathe, “Move…” I cry out at the implication of my request, “ _Fuck_ me…”

Bellamy gently rocks his arm inside of me, his rhythm like a slow and steady heartbeat – _da dum, da dum_. The motion is miniscule, but I can feel every single beautiful inch as he moves his fist within me.

I breathily cry out, “ _That_ – that feels good.” The sheer intensity of sensations is overpowering. I glance at Bellamy, and I’m taken aback by how _absorbed_ he is. His eyes are closed, nostrils flare with each harsh breath he takes. With each involuntary ripple of my inner muscles around his fist, his brows furrow in concentration. God, he’s beautiful. And he’s _mine_.

The air is forced out of my lungs when he begins to gently twist his arm. Again, the motion is small, but a little goes _oh_ such a long way. I don’t realize I’ve lost track of the magic wand until I suddenly feel Bellamy move it back to that magical spot that threatens to undo me in in mere seconds. His gaze snaps up to mine at the sound of my choked whine that comes out of me. He licks his lips and the hunger in his eyes sends a surge of carnal greed through me.

I glance back down, and I find myself transfixed on my cunt, where Bellamy disappears into me. A knot forms in my throat as a wave of emotions penetrates my soul, the same way Bellamy’s fist penetrates my body. Every shift, every budge, every twist drives me closer to orgasm. The _shape_ of this pleasure is so completely different from anything I’ve ever felt before, and I’m torn between wanting to get there so I can truly feel it or drag it out to prolong my bliss.

I glance past my cunt and catch a glimpse of Bellamy’s cock. He’s bent forward, so his body conceals most of my view, but from the peeks I manage, I can see it’s hard as steel and dripping with precome as it juts out from his frame. I want so badly to touch it, to make him come while I fall apart around his fist. I feel a powerful rippling of my inner muscles around his hand as I approach orgasm, and I don’t think there’s a thing I can do to slow it down. It’s now or never… I reach down and wrap my hand around his throbbing shaft. The touch alone is enough to provoke thick ropes of pearlescent come from his gorgeous cock. His coarse groans as he comes with me are music to my ears, and I completely _lose it_ as I succumb to the most intense orgasm I’ve ever experienced in my life.

My body can’t decide whether to swallow Bellamy further in or push him out, and I swear it feels like it’s trying to do both simultaneously. Tears roll down my cheeks as I embrace pleasure in the purest form I’ve ever felt. Then I feel a distinct tightening as my body clenches down on Bellamy, and I’m hit with an overwhelming sense of indulgence, and a whole other level of pleasure bursts out of me in hot liquid form.

Somewhere in the background, I can hear Bellamy’s voice, “…Holy fucking shit, you squirted for me, Princess…” My body is still trying to make sense of its surroundings, and Bellamy is my anchor to reality. I hear him speak to me softly, though it still sounds like it’s coming from behind glass, “…So fucking beautiful when you come… your cunt feels so fucking incredible around my fist…”

Bellamy lays sloppy, desperate kisses along the line of my body, and I’m vaguely aware that his body is shaking with mine. His hand is still lodged deeply within me, and I’m not entire sure I want it to ever leave. It’s incredible.

Absolutely incredible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, the scene isn't done just yet. We'll pick up from Bellamy's POV next. Because he gets some pretty intense feels out of this, too. 
> 
> I like Deborah Addington's approach to fisting: _It is not something one does to a woman. It is something one does with a woman._ Addington wrote an awesome book on fisting that I'd highly recommend to anyone looking to know their way around ladyparts. She takes a reverent approach that I aimed to emulate in this chapter (and the next). 
> 
> I always say this, but PLEASE - REVIEWS are like fuel for writers. You never know how big a difference a few sentences can make to an author who is facing a writer's block... 
> 
> Also, KUDOS!!! Click that button - even if you think you have, maybe you haven't! I'm always surprised when I click the kudos button on one of the fics I love, only to realize that I never left kudos! (I'm always so sure I left kudos already, you know?!) 
> 
> Thank you all for your patience - I know chapters haven't been coming out as frequently as they used to. Life has been busy with school, new job responsibilities, etc. So I haven't been able to spend as much time writing as I used to. I'm so appreciative for my loyal readers - let me know you guys are still out there! 
> 
> As always, last but not least, THANK YOU SO MUCH for reading!!!


	50. merry christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First:  
> She kisses my lips softly and whispers against them, “Profound.” 
> 
> I nod, “Yeah… Profound.”
> 
> And later:  
> Christmas day FLUFF

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *peeks out from behind rock* 
> 
> Hello? Is anybody out there? 
> 
> Hi! Wow... That was a long break! My apologies for such a delay in posting this chapter. Work has been really really busy these past few weeks. I've had pretty much zero "downtime" lately. Then the holidays! I've put a considerable about of effort into avoiding them altogether... But, family stuff awaits. 
> 
> I truly appreciate your patience and understanding, and I'm really glad to have you guys as readers :) THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE REVIEWS AND KUDOS. They really do mean the world to me! So keep them coming! 
> 
> **I would strongly recommend going back and reading the last half of the chapter preceding this one, since this picks up during that scene.**
> 
> TW:  
> Nothing that didn't apply last chapter. 
> 
> Oh, because of the fact that this is a Christmas chapter, and we're getting really close to Christmas, I wanted to get it posted ASAP. SO, this chapter is violently un-beta'd. I didn't want to put pressure on Amber for a quick turnaround. 
> 
> Without further ado...

 I honestly wasn’t _surprised_ Clarke was open to this.  She’s been nothing if not adventurous since this began.  Still, my heart races when she smiles and explains that she’s not afraid of it. 

Clarke asks if I’ve done it before, and I want to say no.  I want to say that I’m doing this for the first time with her.  When I did this with a sub years ago, I had no idea how intense the experience would be.  She became more… needy.  She wanted to call me Master, and there was no goddamn way I was ready for that kind of responsibility.  I didn’t want or need a slave.  My rejection hurt her, because she was open and honest about wanting to deepen our relationship, and she was crushed when I told her that I didn’t share that desire.  She’d had a very deep experience, and I couldn’t deliver afterwards.  So, I told myself I’d never do it again, because I didn’t want to risk letting someone else down. 

But then, Clarke… When I tell her about my past experience, she doesn’t focus on the fact that she won’t be the first.  Instead, she gets excited about the prospect of deepening _our_ relationship, which is exactly what motivates me to do it with her in the first place. 

I’m barely able to manage a straight face when Clarke talks about fisting: _“So, if you’re not punching me in the vag…”_   We eventually manage to pull it together after a few more laughs so we can continue the conversation. 

As I explain to her the slow and deliberate process of how her body will accept my hand, her chest expands in quick pants and her pink lips part.  Her spiked arousal seems to be offset by an anxiety that rises when she looks down at my hand.  I see her mind fall into a tailspin when she talks about work.  She spent the entire day before this with the lives of her patients in her hands, including those of my sister and nephews.  She’s stressed and ready to unravel, so I pull her hand out of the air and enclose it in mine. 

“Come back to me.”  Her body immediately rests and her face adopts a docile expression.

“Yes, Sir.”  My heart races and I feel power surge through me when she says this.  I straighten my back and draw in a deep breath.  Her need to submit practically _radiates_ off of her, and that energy feeds my dominance.  I’m driven by an undeniable need to protect and look after her.  Clarke and I are both fully aware that she’s not a child or an invalid.  But, there’s an undeniable peace that crosses her face when I take care of her.  I get as much satisfaction out of tending to her needs as she does.  In my hands, she relaxes and becomes malleable to my commands while her mind reaches an enviable state of peace. 

After a relaxing shower, we return to the bedroom.  I smile to myself when I catch Clarke peeking into the lube warmer.  She helps to set up the bed with waterproof liners so that we don’t mess up the sheets during play.  When I come back out with a nail care set, she pokes fun, but quickly realizes the purpose, which is to make sure I don’t cause injuries inside of her with hangnails and uncut fingernails.  Then she takes over the process of preparing my hands.  I stare down at our joined hands as she delicately but determinedly trails her fingers, and the size difference between us is almost startling.  My chest squeezes when I watch the way she carefully attends to something as seemingly insignificant as filing my nails.  But something about it calms her, and her tranquility soothes me. 

Clarke during foreplay is a beautiful thing.  She gets impatient sometimes, wants to get to the main event quickly, but all it takes is a gentle command to relax and she’s mollified for a bit.  Eventually, though, she wants more.  

_“Please!”_

Her smoky voice is like music to my hungry ears, and I want nothing more than to give her everything she wants.  Everything she needs.  Her folds are already glistening as I suck each of her lips into my mouth in turn.  She is so _reactive_ tonight….  I use one hand to spread her lips open so I can take in the view of her cunt, which gleams like a wet flower under my gaze.  I take my time to slowly draw my tongue along the boundary of her opening before I give in to my wants and lick into her as deeply as possible.  Her responding mewls send bolts of lust straight through me while I work her over with my mouth. 

I pull my face away and watch her pussy clench and unclench in anticipation while her arousal drips out of her.  I introduce one finger, then two, to explore her velvety inner walls.  Before I add a third finger, I drip cherry-flavored lube over her opening. With three fingers, it’s already a stretch.  With my thumb, I massage the skin around her opening while I lower my mouth to her pussy.  My tongue caresses her clit in slow strokes, and her answering cries are greedy.  As I continue to press her wider, she tells me between desperate breaths what she feels, how excited she is.  And holy _fuck_ she’s _so fucking wet_. 

I command Clarke to tell me what she’s feeling, and she responds in a way that tells me she’s more than ready for this:  Her cunt _needs_.  God, I want nothing more than to give…

Her legs quake as I add a fourth finger, then she looks down at her pussy, stunned by the image of my disappearing fingers as they twist around inside of her.  I take excessive pride in the fact that when she finally speaks, the only thing she can manage is, “Oh my god.”  I bring the vibrator to her mound, and once I’ve found just the right spot, she releases a desperate cry as her entire body lunges upwards.  She descends further into a state of lustful abandon, and I relish the fact that I’m the one who will take her there.

I spend ample time readying her body to take the widest part of my hand, adding more lube as I work her wider.  Her harsh breaths are accompanied by a desperate rise and fall of her chest as she _begs_ for more.  I tuck my thumb next to my other fingers like a duck bill, then slowly advance my hand.  Her brows scrunch together and her nostrils flare like she’s in pain, so I pause a moment and wait for a signal to move again. 

She cries out a desperate _“Please!”_ so I oblige her and push a little farther inside. 

Clarke is spread out before me and the trust in her eyes is absolutely intoxicating.  Words are inadequate to describe how incredible it feels to witness this, to be part of her in such an intimate way.  She keens and gasps as I tell her how goddamn beautiful she is, how fucking hot it is to open her up like this.  I move a little farther and she hisses at the pinch she feels as I stretch her wider.  I’m still not all the way in, but I’m getting close.

“You’re almost there… Breathe for me…”  Her body releases a shuddering sigh as her cunt relaxes more.  I saturate her pussy and my hand with more lube, all the way up past my wrist.  As the bridge of my knuckles finally starts to breach her entrance, she lights up strings of ecstatic swears and pleas.

 _“…More.”_  

I guide her through this last obstacle, “Relax your cunt, Princess… _Accept me_.”  As the words leave my mouth, I realize that there is something much, much deeper in my plea.  She’s not accepting just my hand.  She’s accepting _me_ all over again.  It’s a declaration of our devotion made physical.  With a long exhalation, she releases the last bit of inner tension and the widest portion of my hand finally finds its way in.  Penetration is complete.  My entire hand is consumed by her body.  Just like my entire being is consumed by her soul. 

“I’m in, Princess…”   My admiration is clear in my voice, “My whole hand is inside you.” 

“Your whole fist… it’s inside… of me.”  I can hear the satisfaction, the excitement, the pride in herself.  Now that my whole hand is sheathed inside of her, my fingers naturally curl themselves into a fist.  Clarke’s hands unclench and she stretches her fingers out as we both stop to just _feel_ this new place.  One of her hands makes its way cautiously to her lower abdomen, where she rests her palm for a moment.  I’m caught off-guard at the slight pressure over my fist when she presses her palm down against it.  My eyes instantly find hers and I can see in them the curiosity, the lust, the thrill of being so fully penetrated. 

“Give me your hand.”  She grasps onto my wrist with trembling fingers and guides my hand to her stomach.  I resist the urge to move inside of her right now, instead waiting for her cue for what she wants next.  She covers my hand with the delicate warmth of her own and presses down so our joined hands meet the bulge of my fist inside of her.  And god, I’m floored by this woman.  She curls her body forward to look at herself.  I’m overcome by a sense of wonder as I gaze at the junction of our bodies, where my hand disappears completely inside of her.  I feel a rippling of her inner walls as they adjust to the intrusion while her excited spasms grip onto my hand.

I can’t subdue my awe for her.  “My god.  You’re fucking _breathtaking…”_   She rewards me with an erotic melody of moans and cries and I can feel my cock _throbbing_ with need.  At the same time, an indescribable pleasure fills me, pulsing through me with each throb of her cunt around my hand.  I clench my fist just barely and the action draws a robust reply from Clarke.  I relax, then clench it again, changing the shape of my hand inside of her. 

She begs for _more,_ for me to _fuck her._  

I begin to move inside of her with a gentle rocking motion, back and forth.  Every movement draws lustful cries and needy whimpers.  I close my eyes and savor the feeling of her walls so powerfully enveloping my hand.  I add a small twist of my arm as I continue to gently move in and out, and her moans become desperate, wanting, demanding.  In her bliss, she’s lost her grip on the vibrator and it rolls to the side.  When I put it back on her, her answering growl unleashes something insatiable inside me and I’m overcome by a relentless need to see her come undone for me. 

Her whimpers become moans become cries become sobs.  Her cunt grips my hand with surprising strength, and I can see her nearing her edge.  She curls her torso again and reaches forward, and before I realize what’s happening, she grasps my cock in her trembling fingers and takes me with her as she surrenders to ecstasy.  The pleasure is so sudden, so unexpected, I can’t control the sounds that escape me while I spill myself into her shaking hand.  As she falls apart, her depths push against me while her walls pull me in and the force of her grip around my hand is almost painful. 

Words can’t do justice to the experience of watching her come while feeling it from inside of her.  I look up and take in the view of Clarke, completely shattered in bliss.  Tears roll down the sides of her face as she gasps desperately between pleasured sobs.  Then she goes silent for a moment before her voice becomes a guttural growl.  Her body trembles as if winding up until she releases all over again, this time with a large gush of wetness that floods over my arm.  

 _“Holy fucking shit,_ you squirted for me, Princess...”  I tell her how fucking beautiful she is, how incredible she feels around my hand, how much I love her.  I cover her torso with wet, desperate kisses while my fist remains embedded within her tight walls.  Unable to remove my arm for the time being, I stretch the rest of my body out and rest my forehead, slick with sweat, over the softness of her stomach while I whisper my devotions into her soft skin. 

“Clarke… You're so goddamn beautiful like this... Always so fucking beautiful when you come for me...”  My breath fans over her twitching abdomen while I take a moment to gather myself.  My voice is unwavering, “I love you…”

Her voice is breathless, “I love you so fucking much, Bell.  So fucking much.” 

I softly kiss her belly, “Are you ready for me to take my hand out?” 

She shakes her head, “Just a few more minutes.”

I chuckle against her skin, “Sure, Princess.”

Her voice is laced with euphoria, “I feel so full… I’m so— I need you to stay where you are for now.” 

I brush my lips along the skin of her belly and she slowly threads her fingers through my hair.  I trail my free hand along her skin while we remain profoundly connected.  I feel the moment her body begins to relax and I gaze back down at her cunt, again mesmerized by the way I disappear so completely into her.  (The metaphor of disappearing into her is not lost on me…)

She clears her throat, “Okay, you can do it…” 

I turn my head to face her, “Do what?”

“You can take your hand out… of me.” 

I rise to a sitting position again.  “Let me know if it hurts or anything.” 

She swallows thickly with a nod.  I begin to draw my hand out, but find that her orgasm created a strong suction that won’t allow my hand to budge.  I try and twist my hand to no avail.

She huffs, “Everything okay?”

A noncommittal grunt escapes me, “I’m uh…”

She laughs breathlessly, “Stuck?”

I huff, “Something like that.  Hold on.”  I apply more lube, then insert a finger next to my wrist, which eventually breaks the seal and allows me to withdraw my fist.  My fingers naturally unfurl as my hand leaves her wet warmth.  Once my hand is fully out, Clarke’s hands dart down to grab onto it.  She brings it close to her face, and her gaze is both inquisitive and reverent.  Before I know it, my body hovers above hers as she inspects my hand. 

A strangled moan escapes me when she brings her fingers to her lips and her tongue darts out to taste herself on them.  Her gaze snaps to mine and the heat in her eyes as she sucks a sopping finger into her mouth nearly sets me on fire.  I lower my face to hers in a demanding, ferocious kiss, unconcerned with the fingers still between her lips.  She pulls her face away and pushes me off of her with a ravenous look in her eye.  She follows me up and turns us over so she’s above me. 

I raise an eyebrow in question and she smiles, “Let me.” 

I nod and she presses wet kisses in a line down my torso, licks swirling patterns along the planes of my abdomen while she envelops my cock between her Perfect. Fucking. Tits.  I feel her smirk against my skin before she sits up and grabs the bottle of lube.  She drips the viscous liquid over my cock and pumps it a few times to coat it completely.  Then she sits up straight and holds the bottle high above her body and shoots me a sultry grin.  I nearly lose my shit when she gently squeezes it while she arches her back just right so the clear fluid lands in the valley between her mouthwatering tits. 

“Holy _fuck,_ Clarke.” 

She smiles sweetly, “No… a _holy_ fuck is what we just did... That was a spiritual experience.”  She breathes deeply, then her voice takes on a coarse, beautifully filthy quality, “I’m thinking of some really _unholy_ things right now.” 

My hands have made their way to her hips of their own accord and my fingers dig harshly into her flesh, sure to leave bruises.  She bends forward again and closes her tits around my cock again, only this time, the path between the mounds of flesh is hot and slippery.  Her licentious groans match my own as she fucks my cock with her breasts.  I see her pinch her nipples between her fingers and she releases a positively filthy growl while she ruts her pussy along my thigh. 

“Fuck... Look at you, fucking yourself on my leg! You gonna come, too Princess?” 

She nods and tweaks her nipples again, “Yes, _please_ … Sir.”  I flex my thigh muscles with the rhythm of her grinds against me and it isn’t long before she’s crying out, “Oh, _fuck_!  I’m gonna come, Sir.” 

My voice drips with desperation, “ _Fuck_ , Princess…  I’m gonna come in your tits.”  She shudders with a whimper and I keep talking, “It’s so hot seeing my cock in your tits…” 

She nods and her breaths come in short, frantic pants, “Tell me what you need…”  

I grunt, “ _Tighter_ , squeeze them together tighter.”  She complies with a wicked grin and pushes them together to make a blissfully tight channel through which my cock finds impossible pleasure.  “ _Fuck_ , like that.  _Just_ like that.” 

She whimpers in torment, “I’m too close, I can’t hold it in!”

“Then don’t.  Come with me!” 

Her grip on her tits nearly fails as her body quakes with pleasure, but she maintains a tight passage for me.  I release a brazen groan as I see white ropes of come shoot from between her tits toward her chin, painting her neck and throat.  I growl possessively when she drags her fingers slowly to gather up my come, then brings it to her swollen lips and slowly savors the taste.  I pull her down for another greedy kiss over her fingers, and I’m quickly realizing this kissing-over-fingers thing is a turn-on for both of us. 

We break apart and she rests her forehead on mine. 

“Thank you… For tonight.”

I smile and bring my hands up to cup her face and caress her cheeks with my thumbs.  “Thank _you_.  That was…”

She kisses my lips softly and whispers against them, “Profound.” 

I nod, “Yeah… Profound.”

She settles between my legs and rests her head on my chest.  Her breathing evens out and I angle my head so that I can see her face, serene and relaxed, radiating peace.  I brush my fingers along her back until I follow into slumber. 

* * *

I’m awoken by the sensation of Clarke’s fingers, tracing delicate patterns along my chest.  My fingers twitch where they rest on her back and she must notice I’m awake because she suddenly lifts herself away and crawls up my body.  She whispers against my lips, “I want you to fuck me.”  Almost by instinct, I roll us over so that my body hovers above hers. 

I brush a stray hair from her eyes, “I don’t want to hurt you.” 

She wiggles her hips underneath me and grins wickedly when she feels my cock go hard as a metal rod.  “You won’t…”

"Tell me what you want, Princess."  My fingertips graze her sides, "Tell me what you want and I'll give it to you."    

Her voice becomes a whine, “I want another orgasm, _please.”_   There is a sudden and abysmal change in the air when she pauses a moment and her brows furrow, “Actually, I’m probably too… loose down there to fuck, right now. Never mind.”  She twists her mouth to the side and looks away, embarrassed.  The time the body takes to get back to pre-fisting tightness varies, sometimes it takes all night, other times things are ready to go again right away. 

I tilt her face back to mine, “Hey, don’t shut me out.  Come here.  I’m right here.  _We’re_ right here.” 

Her face softens as she sighs with a gentle nod, “Okay.” 

“Even if things _are_ still… loose,” She huffs an uncomfortable laugh but I continue, my voice low and graveled in her ear, “you know there are _plenty_ of other ways I can give you an orgasm… Let me make you feel good.” I stroke her cheek with one hand while my other hand makes its way down to her pussy.  I’m curious how long she’s been awake with her dirty thoughts, because she’s dripping wet, and I insert two fingers with ease.  She purposefully clenches her inner walls firmly around them in response and I give her a lopsided grin.  “Yeah, tightness isn’t gonna be an issue, Clarke.” 

The temperature in the room seems to spike as her breaths come in heavy pants, “Then _fuck me_.”  As I bring my hand back up to her face, she brings my fingers to her mouth and greedily sucks her own arousal off of them for the second time tonight.  And _fuck,_ that visual alone nearly does me in.  She pauses, apparently amused by my inaction, then asks teasingly, “What, you don’t want to?” 

I narrow my eyes and rock my hips against hers so my cock slides in between her slippery folds, “I think it’s clear I _want_ to.”  She smiles, satisfied, as I cradle the crown of her head in the crook of my elbow.  I ask again, “Are you sure?”

She laughs, “I swear to god, Bellamy, if you don’t—”

I cut her off with a bruising kiss as I line myself up with her entrance.  Her fingers dance along my sides then dig into my ass as I thrust into her in one smooth movement.  The kiss breaks and we both groan in unison at the blessed intrusion.  My forehead rests against hers and we share our breaths as I thrust slowly, gently, in and out.  She wraps her legs around my ass and crushes her body to mine as I speed up the tempo of our thrusts. 

Her voice cracks, “More…”  She sucks in breath after breath, “Deeper…” 

I hook an arm behind her knee, then bring it up to nearly fold her in half as I crush her thigh to her chest.

I grin at the sharp growl that escapes her and ask, “Like that?”

Her moans pierce the air, “ _Fuck_ , yes…”  She rolls her hips against mine as I anchor my arm in the mattress to put more leverage into each thrust as our bodies meet, over and over again.  Neither of us will last long, but that’s not really a concern right now.  

Her voice trembles as I drive into her, “Fuck me _harder.”_ With the next thrust, my hips snap forward powerfully and each plunge sends her higher up the bed, held back only by my arm above her head. 

She cries out, “Keep fucking me! _Please!_  More!”  I pound wildly into her and as I get closer to release, my thrusts become erratic and uncontrolled. 

My voice rumbles through both of us, “You’ve gotta come, _now_!”  White hot pleasure coils at the base of my spine, seeking release into her depths.  “COME NOW!”   

Her eyes slam closed as her body goes rigid under me and her walls clamp down rhythmically around my cock.  With just a few more thrusts, I fall apart inside of her.  The pulsations of her hot pussy complement the throbs of my cock as I empty myself deep inside of her.  My lips graze her temple as I drop my head to the mattress, my breaths harsh and heavy in her ear.  She wraps her strong limbs around me, pressing our bodies tightly together while her body welcomes my seed. 

After a little while, I roll to her side and she turns her sated body so my chest cradles her back and settles into the little spoon. 

She brushes her fingers along my forearm, firmly lodged across her ribcage below her breasts, “Night, Bellamy.” 

I kiss her behind her ear and squeeze her closer to me, “Goodnight, Clarke.” 

* * *

It’s Christmas morning, and Clarke and I have slept in for as long as possible before Alex comes pounding on the bedroom door to inform us that she’s home, and that Nate and Jane are here, too.  We started locking it after Alex barged in unannounced one morning and found us sleeping naked.  All the sensitive areas were covered up, but Alex was still very animated in her repulsion to the visual.  She’s made sure to knock loudly ever since.  But still, the door lock is something I’ve come to appreciate. 

Alex’s voice is positively giddy, “Get _up_!  There are presents needing to be opened!  They’re just _waiting_ there for us.” 

Clarke doesn’t seem to be too upset about waking up early, though that may have something to do with presents under the tree.  She still gripes a bit, but she doesn’t actively threaten to kill anyone. 

“I need to put clothes on…” 

I shrug with a smirk, “I think _need_ is a subjective term.  I certainly wouldn’t mind you staying naked all day.”

She laughs with snort that could be considered unattractive if I weren’t irrevocably in love with her, “Well, we have company.  And Alex would _not_ appreciate it.  Or have you forgotten about the November vomiting incident?” 

“She didn’t _actually_ throw up.”

“Yeah, well…” 

“Point taken.”  I quickly pull on some clothes while Clarke slowly achieves a vertical stance.  “Are you feeling alright?”

She frowns, “Yeah, why do you ask?  Do I look bad?”

I shake my head and kiss her forehead, “No.  I just meant after last night.”  

She nods with a smirk, “Oh.  Yeah, I’m feeling good.” 

“Good.”

She wraps her fingers around the back of my neck and pulls me down for a soft, slow kiss.  The temptation to get back in bed is strong…

“Merry Christmas, Bellamy.”

I smile, “Merry Christmas, Clarke.” 

She breaks the kiss and frowns, “Wait, did we get all the presents wrapped and put under the tree?”

I nod, “Yeah.  Everything’s ready.  I checked yesterday while you were napping.” 

She smiles, “And Alex’s gift?” 

I smirk, thinking about gift shopping a few weeks ago:

* * *

_Two weeks ago:_

_Clarke and I are shopping for Christmas gifts, and somehow our trip has led us to Tiffany & Co.  I realize soon enough that this destination was not unplanned on Clarke’s part.  She tries to sound casual about it, but as she walks among the glittering displays, it’s pretty clear she’s enthralled by the iconic jewelry store.  I have to actively suppress the urge to clasp my hands behind my back like I would have as a child, when my mom would take us into stores where we couldn’t touch the merchandise. _

_“I want to start a charm bracelet for Alex.”_

_I nod, “Okay.  And it has to be a Tiffany charm bracelet?”_

_Clarke gives me a level look and an eye roll, “I’m sorry, was that an actual question?”_

_“Uh, kind of.  She’s seven.  She really needs something from Tiffany’s?”_

_She shrugs, “I was young when my parents gave me the one I have.  And it’s not like I’m not filling the bracelet.  It’s something we add to over time, and that’s what I like about it.  You get charms for things like milestones, you know?  Graduations, birthdays, stuff like that.  It makes it meaningful.”_

_“Okay… But Tiffany’s?”_

_She sighs, “I know it seems like a lot.  And it is.  But it’s something she’s going to keep forever.  It’s an heirloom.  It’ll be too big for her to wear right now, anyway.  But she knows the sentiment behind it.”_

_“Fair enough.”_

_We look at a simple bracelet with what is apparently an iconic heart, engraved with a message that says “return to Tiffany & Co.”  The message makes no sense to me, but it must be a rich people thing.  Clarke does still have her bracelet, and she still wears it on occasion.  In fact, it’s one of the few bracelets I see her wear.  So, she has a point about the longevity of the gift.  I can see the sentimentality in Clarke’s eyes as she handles the silver chain.  I realize it’s not about wanting to give something absurdly expensive to a seven-year old.  It’s about passing down a tradition that brought Clarke happiness in her youth.  She wants to give Alex a happy memory like her own, and that kind of thing is priceless.  Well, the bracelet is $300, so there’s definitely a price… _

_The best part of shopping with Clarke today is the fact that she has been dropping hints that are about as subtle as a hand grenade.  The salesperson keeps tabs on Clarke’s favorites, so I stop him after Clarke leaves to use the restroom to ask if there’s some way to keep a list on file for the future.  We start to put together a registry, only to find out that Clarke already has one.  Unsurprisingly, every item she hinted at during our little trip is already on the list.  Real subtle, Princess… It’s a veritable gold mine of future gifts for Clarke.  And shit, she’s got expensive taste._

_I go back a few days later to pick something out for Clarke.  I originally planned on getting a silver crown charm (for obvious reasons) hanging on a simple chain.  But, my eye keeps traveling back to the “Atlas” key pendant, which is apparently a Tiffany’s thing.  I’m drawn to the whole connotation to history, and Roman numerals surrounding the key like a clock face.  And the “Atlas” name.  So yeah, it’s pretty much a done deal…_

* * *

(Present time)

“Everything’s wrapped.  We should get downstairs.”

Clarke chuckles, “Yeah, Alex will be back any minute to hurry us along.” 

She dresses in her own pajamas and we head downstairs to find Nate and Jane.  They’re working around each other in the kitchen, mixing the batter for pumpkin spice pancakes, which I’m told are Nate’s specialty and a Christmas morning tradition.  I couldn’t be happier to let someone else deal with the kitchen this morning. 

Alex is bouncing up and down in the living room.  I can tell she wants us to hurry up, but she’s trying to be casual about it by not saying anything.  Clarke settles down on the couch with a cup of coffee in hand and takes note of the extra presents underneath the tree. 

I nudge her to make room next to her on the couch, “Where did those come from?”

She gives me a dirty look for nearly making her spill her coffee but there’s no heat behind her eyes.  She explains, “Nate and Jane brought the gifts from their place.  We started doing this a few years back.  We trade off whose house we do presents in each year.  So if we’re at Nate’s I bring our presents there to open them, that way we’re all opening together.” 

I nod with a smile, “That’s nice of them.”

She smiles, “Yeah, it was nice to have family, especially during those years when I had distanced myself from everyone else.”  She looks up at me with a smile, “It’s even better, now that we have you here, too.” 

I kiss the top of her head, “I’m glad I’m here, too.” 

Alex’s face could light up a city block when Clarke tells her she can get everyone’s stockings down.  We even have two for Nate and Jane. 

Alex shouts to the kitchen, “Dad! Jane! Hurry up and come in here!”

They both come into the living room, laughing about something to themselves.  Alex drops onto Nate’s lap when she brings his stocking over to him and wraps an arm around his neck while he pulls out a few trinkets Alex picked out for him.  After she’s done “helping” Nate and Jane empty out their loot, Alex brings my stocking over with Clarke’s and her own, then sits between the two of us on the couch. 

Alex pulls out a little blue box with “Tiffany & Co.” printed on the top and shrieks with excitement.  “OhmigodOhmigod guys is this a joke?  Because I don’t want to get excited about this box only to find, like, coal in there.” 

Clarke laughs and looks over at Nate and Jane before answering, “Not a joke.  Open it.” 

Alex unties the white ribbon and pops the box open, which reveals a jewelry box.  Alex jumps up and down when she opens it to find a silver Christmas tree charm accented with blue enamel.  “A charm!  I love it!”  She wrenches Clarke’s and my necks into hugs, “Thank you so much!”

Clarke laughs and pries Alex’s arm off, “Actually, you need to thank your dad.  He got you the charm.”  Alex darts to the other couch and wraps her arms around her dad’s neck, “Thank you, dad!”  We coordinated with Nate and Jane for Alex’s gift.  We bought the bracelet chain, they bought a charm.  It would seem imbalanced, but the charms are expensive as fuck, some to the tune of nearly $300 a piece.  Alex pulls Jane into a hug before returning to her stocking to take more inventory.  In the meantime, Clarke has begun to pull things out of her stocking - a few travel-sized bottles of lotions in her favorite scent, as well as comfy socks and a few other stocking stuffers. 

Clarke furrows her brows when she sticks her arm to the bottom of the stocking and finds a box, and her grin is bright when she pulls out her own Tiffany’s box.  She wastes no time opening up the box to find the Atlas key pendant.  It’s not often I hear Clarke squeal, but she is genuinely squealy when she takes the necklace out of the box and hands it to me so I can clasp it around her neck. 

“Bellamy, I love it!  How did you know?” 

I give her a level look, “You know, it was really difficult.  There was no way to know exactly what you wanted.  Except for, you know, the hints that you dropped like bricks.” 

She looks up at me and grins as she pecks a quick kiss, “I love it.  Well done.” 

Clarke points at two small boxes under the tree and tells Alex to bring them over, then hands one to me.  “Here.  Open yours.” 

I raise an eyebrow, then unwrap the box.  It’s a blue Tiffany’s box.  This is a ridiculous coincidence. 

She cuts in, “I know what you’re thinking, that you’re not going to wear jewelry.  But it’s not really like _jewelry_.  No jewels.  And I think you’ll like it.” 

I open it up to see a silver cuff, the same Atlas theme as her pendant.  She worries her lower lip between her teeth as she gauges my reaction.  “I thought you’d like the nod to history and all that.  And it’s got roman numerals and stuff.” 

I nod with a lopsided grin, “And the theme is ‘Atlas.’”

She chuckles as I put it on and she pulls my wrist in front of her to inspect it, “How did you know it’s called ‘Atlas?’”

“The sales guy told me.” 

She grins again, “Do you like it?  I didn’t want to get you something all delicate.  And I thought this one would be simple enough.  I didn’t think you’d want something flashy.”

I nod with a smile as I inspect it myself, “You’re right. And it’s perfect.  I’ll have to get used to wearing something on my wrist besides my watch.” 

She chuckles, “Well, you don’t have to wear it all the time.” 

I shrug, “I have to dress nicely for work, so this will fit in just right.” 

“Yeah, I wouldn’t recommend wearing it while doing yardwork.” 

I kiss her forehead, “Thank you.” 

She smiles, “You’re welcome.  I have something for you and Octavia, but I’ll wait until we’re at the hospital so I can give it to both of you.” 

Alex picks up a gift from me, and pretends to shake it around.  She smiles as she sits down next to me, “I bet it’s a book.”  I shrug and tell her to open it, so she tears the wrapping paper away to reveal an old hardback copy of _The Phantom Tollbooth_ by Norton Juster.  Inside the front cover, I wrote an inscription, one of my favorite quotes, that just happens to come from this book:

 _“You must never feel badly about making mistakes…_  
_As long as you take the trouble to learn from them._  
_For you often learn more by being wrong for the right reasons_  
_Than you do by being right for the wrong reasons.”_

 _Alex,_  
_This is true for so many things in life._  
_Don’t be afraid to make mistakes,_  
_For it is through making mistakes that we learn to be better._  
_~ Bellamy ~_

Alex delicately traces the inscription with her fingers and smiles up at me after she reads it.  She pulls me into a hug, “Thank you, Bellamy.” 

I wrap my arms around her, “You’re welcome, Alex.  Have you read it?”

She shakes her head as she disentangles herself from my arms so she can inspect the book again, “No, I haven’t.  Is it good?”

I nod with a grin, “It was one of my favorites when I was a kid.”

“What’s it about?”

“The main character, Milo, is a bored young boy, and he’s given a miniature tollbooth and a map to The Lands Beyond.  The tollbooth is kind of like a portal to another world, where he gets to go on adventures, and quests.”

“Like Dr. Who?”

I laugh, “Well, there’s no crazy man in a box.”

“Then like Narnia?”

I shrug, “Kind of yes, kind of no.  It reminds me more of Alice in Wonderland.” 

Alex considers that for a moment, “So it’s kind of fantastical?”

I nod, “Yeah...  I think you’ll like all the word play and puns… It uses the English language in fun ways.”

She grins, “I can’t wait to read it.” 

“I think you’ll like it.”  I ruffle the hair on the top of her head and nod toward the other box in her lap.  She opens it up to find the Tiffany’s charm bracelet for the charm she opened earlier, and her high-pitched squeals cause Zoe to abandon her Christmas bone to investigate the cause of her little person’s dramatics.  That causes Lincoln and O’s puppies to follow excitedly, which leads to pandemonium under the Christmas tree…

Once everything calms back down, Alex asks, “When are we going to the hospital to see the babies?”

Clarke ruffles her hair, “After breakfast.  And we’ve gotta be dressed.” 

Alex nods with a shrug, “Cool.”  She looks over at Nate with an expectant facial expression, “Well?  Breakfast?”

I laugh, “Impatient much?”

Alex rolls her eyes, “I’m getting hangry.” 

Clarke chuckles, “I hear you, kid.  Me too.” 

Nate grumbles playfully, “ _Fine,_ I’ll finish making breakfast.”  He and Jane go back to the kitchen to finish making breakfast while Alex, Clarke and I get dressed to visit Octavia, Lincoln, and the babies.

 

* * *

Clarke, Alex, and I arrive at the hospital in the late morning.  Both O and Lincoln are sitting on the hospital bed with babies cradled to their chests. 

Octavia’s face lights up when she sees us walk in.  Lincoln looks up at us and nods with a smile, but quickly returns his attention to the infant in his arms. 

Alex tiptoes quietly across the room with impressive speed to get a look at the boys.  She grins broadly at the sleeping infant in Lincoln’s arms as he uncovers the baby.

Alex coos a quiet but exaggerated “Awww,” She doesn’t take her eyes away from the baby when she asks, “Can I touch him?  I washed my hands?” 

Lincoln chuckles and nods, “Go ahead.  But be gentle.” 

Alex gives him a look to communicate a ‘ _duh’_ sentiment.  “Which one is this?” 

“This is Julian.” 

Alex pets his head, then trails her fingers down his arm until she gets to his fingers.  She giggles excitedly when Julian grasps her finger in his hand.  “Oh, mom, look! His hands are so little!  Look at them!” 

By this point, Clarke has taken Sebastian from Octavia, much to Alex’s delight.  Alex gives Julian’s hand a gentle kiss as she extricates her finger from his grip, then makes her way over to Clarke, where Sebastian is much more accessible.  Clarke sits down on the chair with Sebastian cradled carefully in her arms and it sends my mind to predictable places, because now I’m imagining our own kids in her arms. 

She gazes lovingly at the infant, “Isn’t he precious?” 

I nod and press a kiss to the crown of her head.  My voice unexpectedly cracks, “Yeah.  He is.” 

Alex announces in a barely-audible sing-song voice, “I’m gonna get a sibling…”

Octavia’s eyebrows shoot up to her hairline, “What?! Seriously?”

Clarke chuckles with an eye roll, “Not yet.  I still have to get my IUD removed.  But yeah, soon.” 

My chest squeezes when she looks up at me and I can’t fight the massive grin on my face, “Yeah.  Soon.” 

Alex interjects, “I want it to be a girl.”  She glances up at Octavia and Lincoln, who are chuckling at her antics, “I mean, I love your boys.  But I want a little sister, because I can teach her everything.  I don’t know what to do with a brother.” 

Octavia snorts and gives me a teasing grin, “Brothers aren’t so bad.” 

Julian stirs in Lincoln’s arms and I can see him rooting around.  Octavia takes him from Lincoln’s arms like it’s instinct and moves to unsnap her tank top to give Julian access to her “feeding apparatus” and thankfully by this point, I know to avert my gaze quickly. 

Clarke pipes up, “He’s doing really well, Octavia – look at that!” 

Octavia grins and covers Julian with a small receiving blanket.  “We had a lot of practice yesterday.  Sebastian’s a little pro, too.”

Clarke smiles, “I’m so glad, Octavia.” 

Once Julian is finished, Sebastian begins to stir, as if their timing is planned.  He roots around Clarke’s chest, and I hear her breath hitch.  I look down to see her blinking back tears, so I crouch down to her level and lay a calming hand on her upper arm. 

“You okay?”

She gives me a wet smile as I wipe a tear away from her cheek, “Yeah, I’m great.  I’m just really happy these guys are here, and healthy.  Look at him, Bellamy.”  We both look back down at Sebastian, who is getting more vigorous in his search for boob. 

“He’s hungry.”

Clarke laughs, “Well, he wouldn’t be satisfied with these…”  She coos at Sebastian in a baby voice, “Nope, these are all dried up, buddy.”  She brushes his cheek with the back of her finger and looks up at O, who is already holding her arms out, ready to take him so he can eat. 

O tells me, “Fair warning, Bell.  Sebastian does not take well to being covered up while he’s nursing.  So, you’ll get an eyeful if you look over here.”

I laugh, “Thanks for the warning.” 

Clarke chuckles as she hands Sebastian over (with a hint of reluctance in her expression), “Alex was the same way.”  She gives her daughter a playful glare.

Alex rolls her eyes and sits next to Octavia. 

Clarke chastises, “Alex, you’re in her bubble.  Give her some space.” 

Octavia chuckles, “Don’t worry, she’s fine.  As long as you guys aren’t offended or whatever.”

Clarke shakes her head, “No, I’m more concerned that she’ll be trying to give you unsolicited advice.” She gives Alex a pointed look in warning.

Alex puts her hands up in a placating manner and snuggles closer to Octavia, “I’ll keep my tips to myself unless asked.”  Alex and O share a knowing grin then smile back at Clarke. 

Clarke scoffs, “Remember, be polite.”  Clarke goes to her massive purse, which is really the size of a tote bag, and pulls out a wrapped box topped with a bow that’s been flattened and disfigured from its time squished inside her bag. 

She hands it to me, “This is for you and Octavia.” 

I nearly drop it because it’s far heavier than I expected.  “What is it?”

Clarke huffs, “ _Open_ it and you’ll find out.”  She looks startlingly nervous as she watches me unwrap the box.  I open it to find a large, round, metal plate.  It looks decorative, not like something you’d eat out of.  Sweeping curves and lines depict a mother and two children, and it seems… peaceful.  I brush my fingers along the ridges and curves of the sculpted surface. 

“This is beautiful, Clarke.”  I show it to Octavia who studies it carefully.  I ask, “Is this O and the boys?”

Octavia elbows me, “No, idiot – look the kids are different ages.  It’s a boy and a girl, Bell.”

I nod, understanding, “It’s us… That’s mom.”  It’s beautiful, and somehow captures the best parts of my mom, despite Clarke never meeting her. 

Clarke nods, worrying her lower lip between her teeth, “Yeah, it is.” 

I smile, “Clarke, it’s beautiful.”

She shakes her head, “That’s not all there is, actually.”  O and I wait for her to continue.  “So, when we went to visit your mom’s grave over the summer, remember how the headstone was starting to crumble?” 

I nod, “Yeah.  When we picked it out, we didn’t really know what we were doing.”

Clarke smiles, “Yeah, it’s a little overwhelming when you’re in the midst of making those arrangements.”  She swallows thickly before she continues, “So, I went back and looked at it, and it’s made of concrete, which hasn’t done well in this climate.  So, I’ve made arrangements to have it replaced with marble, which will fare better here.  And that-” She points at the plaque in my hands, “-is like, a memorial plaque that will be affixed to the headstone.”

I’m stunned by her gift, and I can’t seem to find words. 

“Did I overstep my bounds?”  Clarke looks genuinely worried about my reaction.

I swallow the knot in my throat, “No.  No, you didn’t.  This is perfect, Clarke.” 

I show it to Octavia, who can’t exactly pick it up while she’s nursing Sebastian.  I hear a sharp intake of breath from O and I look over to see tears roll down her cheeks and she messily wipes them from her face.  “Clarke-” She gestures for Clarke to come over.  Clarke steps between us and lays a comforting hand on her arm, which O covers with her own hand.  Alex is still sitting next to O and is getting squished by her mom at this point.  She brings her knees to her chest and pats the bed so that Clarke can take a seat in front of her. 

O sniffs, “Thank you.  It’s… perfect.”  I feel my chest squeeze as she studies the metalwork with her fingers and smiles up at me.  

I kiss Clarke on the cheek, “Really.  It’s perfect.” 

Clarke wipes away her own tears, “Good.  I’m glad you like it.  The engraving for the actual stone isn’t done just yet.  I wanted to get your input on what to say, obviously.  We can look at it later, though.” 

Octavia and I nod together, “That’s incredible.  Thank you.”

O huffs, “Now I feel like an ass – I only got you guys gift cards to Williams & Sonoma.” 

I roll my eyes, “Come on, O.  You’ve been a little preoccupied.  You get a pass this year.” 

Clarke smiles, “Plus, you gave us nephews.  Those are pretty awesome, and I hear they take months to make.”

Lincoln, who has been quiet as always, stands up and walks around the bed.  He hands off Julian to me so he can wrap his arms around Clarke.  “I never got to say thank you.”

Clarke’s brows draw together as she returns his hug, “For what?”

He huffs, “For bringing my sons into the world, and for keeping my wife healthy.”   

She squeezes his shoulders, “Lincoln, that’s not something you have to thank me for.  I was honored to be part of it.” 

Lincoln nods as they pull away from each other, then looks her in the eye, “I’m still saying thank you.”

Clarke smiles, “Then you’re welcome.” 

In my arms, Julian stirs and begins to cry.  Alex says, “I think he needs to burp.  I was watching him, he didn’t burp yet.”  No sooner do the words leave her mouth does the infant puke all over my shirt. 

I close my eyes and chuckle while Clarke cackles at my predicament.  Clarke holds Julian while I take off my button-down shirt, leaving me in just a black T-shirt.  Clarke is still laughing when she hands Julian back to me, but her laughs come to an abrupt halt and a predatory expression graces her features.  If I didn’t have Julian in my arms, I’d be dragging her down the hall to an on-call room.  It dawns on me that she’s thinking the same thing, and I feel twinge of satisfaction when I see her darkened gaze. 

Clarke clears her throat and looks away as she attempts to fight the blush creeping up her neck.  She kisses Alex on the forehead, then stands up next to me.  She whispers quietly in my ear, “The T-shirt _and_ a baby?  You’re not playing fair, Bellamy.”  I raise an eyebrow and she huffs as she drags a finger along my forearm, “You _know_ what your T-shirts do to me.” 

I smirk, but before I can reply, three simultaneous throat-clearings snap us out of our lust-filled haze.

Octavia scowls, “Dammit, Bellamy, do you _have_ to eye-fuck your fiancé with my child in your arms?” 

I smirk, “Watch your language, O.”  I tip my head toward Alex, who is rolling her eyes so hard, she may give herself a headache. 

O groans, “Seriously.  Do you guys need a room or something?  Is your libido that jacked up right now?” 

Alex shudders, “Please.  Just.  No.  Can you not?” 

Clarke pokes my side with a sly grin, “I think we can turn it down for a little while.  You know, to be polite.” 

I hear Lincoln scoff, “Right.” 

I laugh when Alex shakes her head and gets off the bed, “I’m going to the restroom.”  She scowls at both her mom and me as she passes us, then shakes her head and mumbles something that sounds like “gross” under her breath.   

Clarke calls after her, “Merry Christmas, Alex.” 

The seven-year old waves a hand behind her but doesn’t turn around, “Just… no.  Stop.” 

Clarke turns back to face me with a smug grin, “Well, I think we’ve offended everyone in the room.” 

I nod, equally amused, “I’m going to have to agree with you there.” 

Octavia huffs, “No shit.” 

I ignore my sister’s dissents and press my lips to Clarke’s, “Merry Christmas.”

She smiles softly and kisses me back, “Merry Christmas, Bellamy.”    

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, like I said, life has been really busy! I apologize for the delay, and I am grateful you guys have stuck with me! 
> 
> I truly appreciate all of your comments and reviews, and I will be replying to individual comments throughout the day and tonight. But for now, thank you thank you thank you! 
> 
> As always, please, review review REVIEW! What worked? Favorite lines? And, if you haven't left KUDOS, please do so! 
> 
> Everytime I get email notifications of comments and kudos, it really makes my day. 
> 
> There are a dozen different directions to take this story next. But, coming up in future chapters: a wedding, and Bellarke baby-making ;) 
> 
> As always, thank you so much for reading!


	51. four hours and nearly fifteen years

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raven laughs, “Come on, Clarke. I topped you in bed and you didn’t remotely put up a struggle. You loved letting go.” She points her fork at me, “If things had been different, you and I would’ve been explosive.”
> 
> ~~~~~
> 
> Clarke and Raven catch up and have a very necessary conversation. Then a helping of smut, because of course.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Peeks out from behind rock* Hello? Anybody there?!  
> So. It's been a while. To all of you still with me, I am deeply grateful for your loyalty! As always, I am floored by all of your support. Each and every one of your comments have been wonderful and so very much appreciated. Please, please keep them coming! I am so tremendously behind on replies... BUT they will happen soon. I thought you guys might appreciate getting the next chapter first ~ I'm going to start working on replies as soon as this is posted. 
> 
> I would like to thank Amber (@bilexualclarke) for beta-ing this!

[Clarke POV]

 

I’m putting the finishing touches on lunch when I hear the front door open. 

Raven’s voice carries through the living room, “Clarke?”

I call back, “In the kitchen!”

“Aw, you’re trying to cook?”   

I laugh, “Shut up.  It’s edible, I promise.” 

When she appears in the entryway, she’s smirking like the cat who ate the canary.  “So.  You promised me details.  Spill.” 

“Wow, no _‘Hi Clarke, how are you, Clarke?’_  Getting right down to business, I see.”

She rolls her eyes, “Why waste time?”

I nod toward the bar counter, “How about we sit down, first.  Food is important.”  As we sit down I shake my head with a laugh, “So, how _has_ your day been?” 

She smiles, “It’s been good.  Normal.  Nothing new has happened, life has been good.  Enough about me.  Tell me everything.”  I laugh and take a bite of my food while I silently appraise her.  She tilts her head, “Do you not want to talk about this?  Because we don’t have to, if it’s not something you’re comfortable with.” 

I hold a hand up while I swallow a bite, “Yes!  I do.  Definitely.  I actually have some specific questions.”  I give her a smirk, “I’m just amused by your eagerness, that’s all.” 

She grins, “I’ve been sitting on this for weeks.  So yes, I am eager.” 

I smile, “This is the first time I’ve really talked about it with someone outside of the community, with the exception of my mom.”

Raven laughs, “Oh, Abby… What did she think when she found out her precious child is a kinkster?”

I feel my face scrunch, because I feel like it’s probably not my place to tell Raven about my mom’s sex life.  Unfortunately, I fail to school my features quickly enough for Raven’s cleverness.

Amusement spreads across Raven’s face, “Oh, this is already an amazing day.”

I roll my eyes, “Well, if you want to know more, feel free to speak to her.” 

“I hear you.  So what about you and Bellamy?”  She pauses briefly, “Is it cool with him that we talk about him?”

I nod, “Yeah, he’s fine with it.” 

“Great.  Please continue.” 

I chuckle at her enthusiasm “Well, unlike me, this is something he’s been part of for his entire adult life.” 

“So you had no idea before?” 

I shake my head while I swallow a bite, “Not a damn clue.”

Raven smirks, “Well, it definitely explains why he and I were such a terrible match in bed.”  She stops herself, “Is it weird to talk about this?  Like, about Bellamy?”

I shake my head, “No. Bellamy and I have talked about it, so there isn’t any lingering weirdness on my end, if that’s what you’re asking.” 

She smiles, “Good.  I’m glad.”

Curious, I ask, “You said ‘terrible match.’  What does that mean?”  I clarify, “I’m not offended or anything.  Just curious.” 

She huffs and finishes chewing her food while she studies me closely.  She explains, “Well, when you have two dominant people trying to fuck, without actually acknowledging that either of them is dominant?  It’s just not satisfying.”  She shrugs, “I distinctly remember that the power struggle was really annoying.  I’m not saying he’s bad in bed or anything.  Obviously you can attest to the fact that he’s a great lay.  But one night was enough to know that even if he wasn’t just a rebound, he and I wouldn’t have been compatible in the long term.” 

I nod, “That makes sense.” 

She smirks, “So I assume you’re the submissive.” 

“That assumption is correct.”  I roll my eyes, “You’re obviously not surprised.” 

Raven laughs, “Come on, Clarke.  I topped you in bed and you didn’t remotely put up a struggle.  You loved letting go.”  She points her fork at me, “If things had been different, you and I would’ve been explosive.” 

I feel my cheeks blush against my will.  We’ve acknowledged that that night _happened_ , we’ve just never discussed it like this. 

“Yeah, that was a pretty great night.”  I pause a moment to think about how to phrase my thoughts. “So, this might be a weird question, but I always kind of wondered why you didn’t want me to ‘return the favor’ more than once.”  I can feel myself fumble over my words, irrationally embarrassed, “I figured it was because I needed practice.  You know you were the first woman I’d had sex with.” 

She smiles wickedly, “Oh, Clarke… Do you really think I only had _one_ orgasm that night?” 

I can’t fight my own smile, as shy as it may be.  “You had more than one?” 

She smirks, “Before you went down on me, I’d already had at least two.  _Trust me,_ I was taken care of.” 

“Wow.  Okay.”  I have to laugh, because that’s strange to think about.  After a few moments of contemplative silence, I ask, “Why did you refuse to see me, or even talk to me for months after that?” 

She thinks about it a moment before answering, “I was pissed.  And confused.”  I raise an eyebrow and wait for her to continue.  “Having sex with the girl my boyfriend cheated on me with was more satisfying than he _ever_ was.  And that was upsetting for a lot of reasons.” 

I frown, “I can understand that.” 

She shakes her head, “It’s not what you’re thinking.” 

“It’s not?”

“Well, on the surface, yes it is what you’re thinking.  My first thought was that he must have been cheating on me because you were… better than me.  And then, you basically proved that by blowing my mind.”

My eyes widen, “Well, that definitely wasn’t what I was thinking.”  She tilts her head and patiently waits for me to elaborate.  “I just figured it was because it was awkward, because of Finn.  And like I said before, I figured that sex with girls wasn’t something I was necessarily _good_ at, yet.  So you disappeared because you wanted to avoid a repeat.” 

She shrugs, “No.  That wasn’t the case at all.  I mean, at the time, I didn’t realize you hadn’t been with a girl before.  I actually remember thinking that you were pretty experienced with it.” 

I nod, with what I’m sure is a dumb look on my face.  “Oh.  Well.  No.” 

She chuckles, “I didn’t realize until years later that your first time was with me.”  Her face softens, “I’m sorry I made you think you were bad at it.” 

I shrug with a soft laugh, “It’s okay, Raven, really.”  I smirk at my plate as I push my salad around with a fork, then look back up at her, “It actually just motivated me to get… better.” 

She laughs good-naturedly, “Well, then.  Clearly I missed out.”  After a beat, “The other thing was, I was on this self-destructive spiral.  A lot of shit was going on, and my life had been turned upside down… I transferred here to be with him, because I missed him _so much._   And I was excited to be near my boyfriend again, only to find out that he’d moved on.” 

“Yeah.  That sucked.” 

She scowls at her fork with a wary laugh, “And I was so angry at you.  Even though I knew it wasn’t your fault, and you didn’t know about me, there was still this burning fury that he had picked you.  My whole life, I had been picked first for everything, but then there you were, and suddenly I was invisible.” 

I sigh, “That’s not true.” 

She smiles softly, “I know.  But it felt like it at the time.  That was why I slept with Bellamy – I wanted to take something that was _yours_ , the same way you took something that was mine.  I thought it might make me feel better.”

I laugh, “But Bellamy wasn’t ‘mine.’” 

She gives me a level look, “Clarke, Bellamy was _always_ yours.” 

I tilt my head, “Well, I certainly didn’t realize that at the time…”  I ask, “Did it help?”

She shakes her head, “No.”  She laughs, “It’s funny, that was Bellamy’s first question.”

“What was?” 

“As I rolled off of him, the first thing he asked was, ‘Did it help?’”  For some reason, that doesn’t really surprise me.  She continues, “I was a fucking mess.  Of course it didn’t help.  And then you were a good person, and I kind of liked you, even though I kind of hated you…”  We both laugh and she continues.  “Then once you were were done with Finn, I slept with you, to hurt him… But that backfired.” 

I tilt my head, “Backfired?”

She gives me a thoughtful look, “I thought I could fuck you and not feel anything beyond vindication...  Some sort of satisfaction that you left Finn _and_ picked me… But it didn’t feel how I thought it would feel.  Sex with you was supposed to be… angry.  And it wasn’t.  You know that.” 

I nod in agreement, “I didn’t know what to expect, either.  But it certainly didn’t feel like you were angry that night.” I’m a little bit surprised by her words.  Raven has always been honest, but I’ve never seen her this _raw_ before.

“So, once again, I was confused and angry because I wasn’t ‘angry’ in the way I thought I would be.  Which is stupid in hindsight.” 

I shrug, “I know what you mean, though.” 

“Yeah?”

I nod, “I mean, I was angry with Finn, too.  I understand the feeling of wanting to get back at him somehow, and I think in that respect, we used each other that way.” 

She bites her lip, “Yeah.  Which, after getting to know you, I regretted ever thinking I could ‘use’ you.  Because that wasn’t fair.” 

I shrug, “I felt the same way.  I didn’t exactly chase you down afterwards, or question why you avoided me.  I figured it was just what we were supposed to do – avoid each other.  I didn’t really know what else to do.”  I sigh, “I had only been with him a few months at that point and while it hurt, we hadn’t been together that long.  It was worse when I got to know you.  I felt like I had ruined your life.”

She nudges my shin under the table, “You know better than that, Clarke.  It happened.  And if it wasn’t you, it would’ve been someone else.”  She gives me a smile while her fingers fidget, “And like I told you before, I’m glad it was you.  It’s the only reason you and I even met, and I can’t imagine my life without you.”

I cover her hands with both of mine, “Me either.” 

After we finish lunch, we move to the living room and sink down on the oversized couch. 

After a moment of relaxing into the cushions, Raven turns to look at me and asks, “What were we talking about before?” 

I grin, “We were talking about Dom/sub dynamics.” 

She nods and leans back against the couch again, “That’s right... Do you guys ever switch?” 

I chuckle, “Actually, that’s one of the reasons I wanted to talk to you, specifically.  Because we haven’t done it before.  I brought it up a while ago, just curious if he’d try it, and he said he’d do it.” 

Raven smirks, “Not a surprise.  So it’s your first switch?” 

I nod, “Yeah.  And I don’t even know where to start.  Again, I brought it up just out of curiosity.  I wasn’t sure he’d actually go for it.” 

She rolls her eyes, “Of course he would.  It’s _you_.” 

I smile, “That’s what he told me, too.  But yeah, after I asked, I didn’t exactly have a follow-up… It’s overwhelming because I don’t have any idea what I’m doing.  I mean, what if I forget to take care of him?  Or what if I hurt him somehow?”

“Well, how would you hurt him?  Are you administering pain?” 

I shake my head, “I don’t think I should.  At least not with toys.  I don’t know how to use them well enough.  I’m only acquainted with having them used on me, not the other way around.” 

She nods, “I agree.  It takes a lot of practice to master those instruments.  Also, since this is the first switch, it would probably be smart for you guys to start slow.  Stick to the psychological element, which is powerful in and of itself.”

I nod, “Okay.  What do you mean by that?” 

She smirks, “Give him specific rules to follow.  Apply consequences if he doesn’t follow them.” 

My brows furrow, “Alright… but if I’m not going to give pain, what kind of consequences?” 

“Well, what does he like the most when you guys are having sex?”

I think about that a moment, “He uses his hands.  A lot.  Like, there are sessions when he refuses to let me touch any part of myself without permission.”  I shift in my seat, feeling embarrassingly aroused from merely _thinking_ about those nights. 

Raven grins, “Well, I’d say that’s a perfect jumping-off point.  Make it a rule that he isn’t allowed to touch you.” 

“And when he breaks it?” 

“Physically restrain him so he _can’t_ touch you.”  She pauses, “Have you guys discussed limits for this?”

I nod, “Yeah.  He said he’d be fine with light restraints.  Like wrist and arm bindings.” 

“Ropes?”

“Yes.” I shoot a smug grin, “I’m actually quite skilled with knots, now.”

Raven smiles, “Is that right?”

“Yeah.”  I chuckle, “You know me – I like to have something to keep my hands occupied, so while we’re watching TV and stuff I practice knots and ties with the rope.” 

She nods, “Fair enough.  Then, if you feel comfortable restraining him, that’s a hell of a powerful consequence.” 

My mind lights up with possibilities.  I know for a fact that one of the quickest ways to drive Bellamy crazy is to tell him he can’t do something, or specifically forbid him from having something.  I chuckle to myself when I think about it, forgetting I’m not alone in the room.

Raven turns her head to face me and raises an eyebrow, “Something you want to share?” 

I laugh, “I was just thinking about this time we were getting dressed for a fund-raiser for the hospital, and I was slipping on some thigh-high sheers.  Bellamy was practically drooling, and he slipped a finger under one of the bands, you know, all suggestively.  But, we were already running late and didn’t have time to fuck around, so I smacked his hand away.  I told him he couldn’t touch because if he did, we’d never leave.”  I laugh, “I swear, he looked like a kid whose favorite candy had been eaten up right in front of him… The _entire_ night, he was strung so tight he was practically vibrating.  When I went to touch up my makeup in the bathroom, he followed me in and locked the door…”

Raven clears her throat to prompt me to continue, “And?” 

“He wanted to fucking ravage me.  I really didn’t want to walk around with sex hair, so I told him he couldn’t fuck me until after the party.  He settled for getting me off with his fingers while he muffled my moans with his free hand… And once we got home, he was insatiable.”  I sigh longingly at the memory, suddenly desperately horny and loathing our current 24/7 arrangement that forbids me from getting myself off without his permission. 

Raven coughs, “Shit.  That’s hot as fuck.”  She smirks, “Yeah, a “no touching” rule is going to fucking kill him.”

I nod, “I think if I base everything off of that concept, it’ll be enough for me to focus on.  I don’t want to get too complicated with it.” 

She nods, “Smart thinking.”

I nudge her with my foot, “So what about you?  Like, what are you guys into?” 

She smirks, “Kyle and I started slow.  He’d never even dabbled in BDSM.  But he was open to it when I suggested it.”

I nod, “And now?” 

Raven smiles fondly, “He’s a veritable fuck toy...” She clarifies, “One who is loved and cherished, of course… who _really_ gets off on erotic humiliation.” 

“So, like, name calling?” 

She nods, “Yeah, a lot of that… along with physical things.” 

“Like what?”

She shrugs casually, “For instance, he’s wearing a chastity device right now.” 

“A what?”

She smiles, “It’s a chastity cage.  The one I have on him basically causes severe physical discomfort if he gets hard.  It’s designed to let him do normal everyday things, like go to the bathroom, but prohibits touching himself, makes it painful to get aroused...  Also, he can’t take it off without the key, which I keep with me at all times.”  She pats the pocket of her jeans with a smirk.    

I’m pretty sure my eyebrows are raised into my hairline, “Holy shit… That’s intense.”

She laughs, “Yeah, it kind of shocked me at first.  I never thought he’d be this invested in it, but it’s been really positive for both of us.  I just introduced him to the concepts to see if it was something that interested him, and it kind of took off from there.”  She pauses a moment, “When Kyle and I started, I’d really just had experience with dominance and discipline.  I wouldn’t call myself a sadist, although I do administer a great deal of physical pain to him.  But I don’t really get _turned on_ from the act of causing him pain.”

I nod, “Yeah.  As Bellamy explained, a sadist, by definition, gets sexual pleasure from causing pain.” 

“Exactly.  For me, it’s not the pain that turns me on.  It’s knowing that it turns _him_ on.  _That_ gets me off.” 

I smile, “He tells you his fantasies, and you make them happen.”

She nods, “Eventually, he told me that these weren’t _new_ desires on his part, because he’d always had these kinds of fantasies.  But he thought he’d die before ever telling someone about them.” 

“That’s huge, you know.  For him to tell them to you?”

Raven smiles, “I do know.  It scared the shit out of me, at first.  That he had _that much trust_ in me.”  She huffs, “All of a sudden, the concept of _responsibility_ became very real.  It’s the first time I’ve been in a committed relationship with someone who _wanted_ to be fully dominated.” 

I laugh, “As opposed to being with someone who didn’t want that?”

She chuckles, “No… it was the committed part that was new.  My other partnerships had been based on a single need.  Like, one guy liked to be denied orgasms, and I was good at that.  Another partner I had liked to worship feet.”  She chuckles, “I’m not necessarily a ‘foot person,’ but I could identify that specific need and didn’t have a problem fulfilling it.”

I put a hand up to stop her, “Okay, I’m just curious here, and you don’t have to answer.  But, with foot-guy.  What did you do, like as the foot-worship-ee?  Like, did he have sex with your feet or something?” 

Raven barks out a laugh, “Well, kind of, I guess.  Sometimes.  As a reward, I’d make him come by rubbing his dick with my feet.  At first I did it with bare feet, but then we discovered he was particularly aroused by feet inside of pantyhose, so that was a fun addition.”

“Okay, I’m trying to visualize this.  By ‘make him come,’ was it like a handjob… but with your feet?” 

She smirks, “basically, yeah.  Obviously you can’t wrap your foot around a dick the way you can with your fingers, so instead, I used both feet and rubbed them along his cock until I let him come.  But mostly, he just liked touching and massaging my feet while I told him he was a good boy.” 

I nod, “Huh.  Well, I guess I learn something new every day.”  I pause a moment, “What ended things with him?  Or any of the others?”

She smiles, “Well, for one thing, they were all non-exclusive, I didn’t formally take anyone on as my submissive.  It was just… kink fulfillment, I guess… something interesting.  Then I started to get closer with Kyle, and when he finally convinced me to date him, it wasn’t hard to leave the group behind.” 

“Fair enough.  How long were you guys together before you brought it up?” 

She tilts her head, “He wanted me for a long time before we actually started dating.  I wasn’t ready to go all in with him, or anyone.” 

I smile, “Until you were.” 

She nods with a fond expression, “Yeah.  Until I was…  Right away, I knew he liked to me to be in charge during sex.  It was rare that he took over.  And at first I wasn’t sure if it was because he was lazy or something.  I mean, I obviously didn’t mind – I like to be on top, so it worked.  But I was curious… So we talked about it.”  She thinks for a moment, “I guess we were together for about six months before I mentioned the actual ‘terms’ – you know, bondage, discipline, domination, submission, sadism, masochism.” 

“Well, he obviously didn’t go running for the hills.” 

She laughs, “No.  Basically, I told him about my experience with it.  I tried to make it sound more accessible, if it was something he was interested in.  Still, I think he was a little intimidated.”

“Understandably.”

“I wasn’t sure what would come of the conversation, because he didn’t mention it for about a week.” She chuckles, “Then one night, he sat down next to me on the couch with a fucking three-ring binder of things he researched and printed out after our conversation.  He was all in.”  She sighs, “Even though I’d had some experience with kink, I’d never been in a committed relationship in this context.  So it’s been a learning experience for both of us.” 

“That’s great, Raven.” 

“I’m happy.  He makes me happy.” 

I smile, “Good.” 

She nudges my knee with hers, “So what about you – I saw all the marks on your birthday.  It was impressive.” 

I chuckle, “Well, it’s taken a while to get where we are now.  I’d never done any of it before, and Bellamy knew that.” 

Raven nods, “I could see him being a good guide.” 

“Actually, that’s something he’s kind of known for in the group.  The first meeting I went to, he was out of town or something.  But they wanted me to meet ‘B’ because they thought he’d be a good resource for me.”  I can’t stop the grin on my face, “Two weeks later, Bellamy fucking Blake walks through the door.” 

“How long did it take you guys to actually get together, you know, in the biblical sense?” 

I smirk, “About four hours.” 

She laughs out loud, “Sounds about right for you guys.” 

I lazily smack her arm with my hand, “Shut up.  Four hours and nearly 15 years.” 

She sighs with unnecessary drama, “Trust me, we _all_ know.” 

“Yeah, yeah…” 

She curses under her breath, “Four hours…  How horny _were_ you?”

I fix her with a level look, “Have you _seen_ my fiancé?  I was the appropriate amount of horny, thank you very much.”

“Had you guys ever fucked before that?” 

I shake my head, “We’d never even _kissed_ before that.” 

“Seriously?  Even in college?”

I shake my head, “No, but not for lack of trying on my part…” 

She smiles sadly, “Yeah I remember that.  I just always wondered if there was ever like, one night, where you guys gave in and just… _fucked_.  And then never spoke of it again or something.” 

“Nope.”  I emphasize the _P_ with a pop. 

She shoots me a lazy grin, “Then I suppose four hours was generous.” 

I drop my head against the back of the couch with a satisfied smile, “It was so worth it the wait.”  I pause, “When I saw him at the munch, everything we had been through instantly made sense – particularly, why he shut ‘us’ down back in college…”  I sigh, “Just… it all fell into place then.”

“And the rest is history?”

I chuckle with a nod, “The rest was history.” 

* * *

By the time Raven and I are saying our goodbyes, Bellamy comes back home.  On her way out, Raven smiles and pats him on the shoulder, “Later, Bellamy.”  He shoots me a questioning look and I just shrug innocently, as if I didn’t just spend the last four hours talking about sex…

Bellamy flops down on the couch next to me, “What was that all about?”

“Oh, just girl talk.” 

He gives me a disbelieving smirk, “Right... ‘Girl talk.’” He pokes my side and whispers in my ear, “Good girl talk?” 

I shoot him a questioning glance, wondering if that ‘good girl’ was deliberate.  Judging by the smirk on his face, it was most definitely intentional. 

I shrug, “Sure, _good girl_ was among the things discussed.” 

He faces forward again, nonchalant, “So I guess you’re all sexed-out, then.”

I bark out a laugh, “Who says _‘sexed out’_ anymore? Jesus, Bellamy.” 

He chuckles as he pulls me into his lap, “Yeah, you’re clearly not in the mood…”  His breath catches in his throat when I grind down on his already-hardening cock.

I grin before I rake my teeth gently along his neck, “Clearly…”  An audible gasp escapes me when his hands encircle my hips and hold me still while he grinds his cock against my core. 

He pops the button on my pants and sneaks a hand between my legs.  He blows out a lungful of air when he feels how fucking wet I am.  “ _Jesus,_ what were you gonna do if I hadn’t gotten home?”

“Call you and beg.”

He pulls my face back and cradles it in hand with the sweetest fucking expression that conflicts severely with the obscene things he suggests, “Beg for what?” 

My voice is breathless, “Beg you to _please_ let me come.” 

He smiles approvingly, “And if I let you, how were you gonna do it?”

“Do what?”

“How were you gonna make yourself come?” 

I shrug with a shudder, “I don’t know…  However you ordered me to come.” 

“If I’d told you to use your fingers,” he slips his own fingers underneath my underwear, “I would’ve told you to tease the edge of your slit ever-so-slowly.”  He mimics his words with his fingers.  “Then I would’ve told you to keep doing it until you’re dripping wet.  He growls, “And I mean _dripping_ out of you.”  I shiver at the way his voice surrounds me.  “Like you are right now.  Your cunt is drenched, Princess… Did talking with Raven turn you on?” 

I nod in the affirmative, unwilling to reveal just how trembling my voice may be. 

He lifts his fingers away from my cunt, “I asked you a question.” 

I breathe, “Yes…” 

His fingers return to me, dipping just barely into me to gather my arousal, “Fuck, Princess…”  He tugs at my waistband, “Get these off and turn around.”  I comply, nearly tripping over my own legs in the process, but he steadies me with his hands on my waist.  I face away from him and I feel his large hand gather the material of my shirt in his hand so he can sink his teeth into my bare skin over my ribs.  He keeps his mouth there for an agonizingly long time, sucking a dark mark before he tugs me back down to sit in his lap, my back cradled into his chest.  His breath fans over me as he uses his hands to slowly guide my calves to dangle over the outside of his knees.  I gasp when he wrenches his knees apart to spread me wide open, the cool air against my throbbing heat is startling. 

“Easy now…”  He settles his hands over my thighs to counteract my trembling body.  Once I’ve calmed to his satisfaction, he pulls my shirt over my head, then grabs hold of my hands and directs them to link behind his neck.  “Keep your hands up here… Do _not_ let them stray down here.” 

I nod while I bite back a disbelieving laugh – why on _earth_ would I want my hands to interrupt whatever he has planned for me? 

Bellamy’s fingers travel over my bare flesh, making a slow, torturous path back to where I truly want him.  After what feels like a fucking _lifetime_ , he finally returns to my cunt.  He chuckles at my frustrated whimpers and gathers my arousal with his fingers, then spreads it in a wide circle around my pussy, rounding closer and closer to my clit.  His touch becomes feather-light when he finally reaches the hood of flesh that covers it, and his deliberate denial of my pleasure is absolutely maddening.  My fingers grip each other furiously behind his neck before I tangle them into his thick hair and pull hard until he hisses. 

He lays a sharp slap to the inside of my thigh and growls, “Behave.  Or I’ll edge you all night and still won’t let you come.” 

I loosen my grip on his locks and nod, “Yes, Sir.” 

He continues his to torment me, one hand on my pussy, and the other one on my breasts, massaging and plucking until they feel unbearably heavy with want.  He abandons my cunt altogether so he can cup the full globes of flesh in his large hands, feeling the weight in his palms before flicking his thumbs over my nipples.  A slight taste of copper hits my tongue when I lave the inside of my harshly-bitten cheek, a result of my attempts to remain calm under his hand. 

I fruitlessly attempt to press my legs together, desperate to get some sort of friction.  When that doesn’t work, I lock my ankles around his calves and squeeze to get his attention. 

Bellamy chuckles, “Since my hands are busy” he pushes my breasts together playfully, “-You can touch yourself.”  He barely finishes the sentence before my fingers rush attend to the unbearable need between my legs.  “Remember, slow… tease yourself as if it’s me doing it.” 

I nod with an embarrassing whine as I comply.  I tease my opening before dipping in to wet my fingers, then slowly draw around my pussy, now swollen and throbbing.  A sharp cry escapes me when he pinches both my nipples hard and pulls them away from my body.  After repeating the treatment a few times, his hands come to grip my thighs and hold my lower body still, crushed against him at each point of contact. 

“Put your fingers inside your cunt and fuck yourself with them for me.”  With a lecherous moan, I slide two fingers inside, then begin to vigorously pump them in and out. With his profane encouragements, I add a third. “Good girl, keep doing that…” His voice purrs, a noise that reverberates through the best parts of me.  “Now play with your clit, Princess… Nice and slow for me.”  My body jerks as my fingers make contact with the sensitive bundle of nerves, but I’m held still by Bellamy’s strong hands.  I cry out, unashamed, as his fingers crawl upward along my inner thighs toward my center while I bring myself closer and closer to the edge.

 _“Fuck,_ please… I need-” I’m cut off by own gasp as he rolls my outer lips between his fingers, making them even more swollen and needy. 

“You want to come?”  

I nod, “ _Please_ …” 

He spreads my cunt open with his fingers, “You have my permission.” 

His profane demand sends me careening over the edge as I’m engulfed by my own pleasure.  I feel the whoosh of blood pulsate in my ears while my eyes slam shut in ecstasy.  My harsh breaths slowly calm down as my body softly trembles under the exploration of his large hands.  He murmurs gentle encouragements against my skin that have me hungry for more of him.  I drop my head back and relax against him, only to feel every nerve in my body light back up when I feel his erection against my back.

I turn my face to kiss the underside of his jaw, “I think we still need to take care of you.” 

I can hear the cocky smirk in his voice, “Oh, don’t worry… we will.”  I whimper before I can stop myself and he chuckles, “I was going to make dinner, but there’s something else I’m going to eat instead.” 

My entire body shudders in anticipation, “You should definitely do that…” 

 

* * *

 

Bellamy brings me to orgasm twice with his mouth before we even make it out of the living room, and by the time we get to the bedroom, he's already fully sheathed inside me.  It doesn't take long for us to fall apart together and I'm reminded all over again how fucking happy I am that he's mine... How lucky I am to be his...  

I expect to pass out as soon as my head hits the pillow, but I find myself awake for hours... My conversation with Raven plays on a loop in my head. Bellamy has left the ball in my court when it comes to _when_ I want to dominate, patiently waiting for me to make a decision.  

I think I'm finally ready to make a move... 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can guess what's coming next... By popular demand, Domme!Clarke will finally be making her appearance next chapter. :)  
> Ch. 52 is actually _almost_ done, but I have a lot of "life" happening in the near future, so I am aiming to post it within the two weeks. Have patience... I think it'll be worth it ;) 
> 
> ~~~~~ 
> 
> Writing has been slow-coming since the season started, largely because of Fandom drama. I wasn't even aware of what a Fandom _was_ a year ago, so this has been a bit overwhelming, especially the social media aspect. Ship wars were also something unfamiliar... Every time I opened my laptop, I was swamped with notifications of people attacking each other over ships. It was frustrating to see nothing but hatred, and it all had a serious (negative) impact on my motivation to write _anything._ So, I did kind of a mass un-follow, which resulted in a massive improvement in my stress levels... And things have been better. [PS if I accidentally un-followed you, just send me a message on tumblr, and i'll put you back on - I know for a fact that there were at least a few inadvertent unfollows on my part that I've already had to fix!]
> 
> My point is, all the drama made it difficult to buckle down and write. But, things have been improving and motivation is finally making a re-appearance :) 
> 
> AND ALSO LIFE. I'm a single mom with a job that doesn't always allow me the time to do things I really want to do... **I really, truly, appreciate that you guys have stuck with me through these long breaks. I think the results will worth the wait ;)**
> 
> As always, REVIEWS give me life. Truly. They lift my spirits and let me know you're still with me - even those short, two-word comments are awesome. 
> 
> And go ahead and hit that KUDOS button (if you're enjoying this, of course) - you may think you've already left kudos, but it's amazing how many times I've thought the same thing about a piece, only to realize that I hadn't. 
> 
> Those notification emails about kudos and reviews are truly awesome to receive. Every. Time. 
> 
> Aaaaaand last but not least, THANK YOU so much for reading!!!


	52. four rules

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 1\. "You may not touch me unless I tell you to.” 
> 
> 2\. “You may not touch yourself unless I permit it.” 
> 
> 3\. "You can’t come until I tell you to. But I’m sure you expected that one already.”
> 
> 4\. “You will do as I tell you, when I tell you to do it."
> 
> AKA
> 
> Clarke's turn to dominate ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is here a few days later than I planned, but better late than never? Seriously, thank you guys so much for the feedback and reviews :) I'll be replying to them over the next day or so (when I can steal a few moments). They are really motivating it's lovely to get them in my inbox! Thank you guys for sticking by me and this fic 
> 
> SO... By popular demand - Domme!Clarke. Finally ;) I apologize for the wait! 
> 
> Special shout out to Kayla (@raincityruckus) for being my sounding board during conception of this chapter. 
> 
> And thank you to Amber (@bilexualclarke) for her excellent bets work! 
> 
> TW:  
> Nothing extreme. This falls under a more "gentle domination" category. But there's some rope bondage, just fyi.

[CLARKE POV] 

I walk into the dining room to find Bellamy flipping through piles of work papers.  I step around his chair on my way to the kitchen, stopping briefly to give him a kiss on the cheek.  His hand darts up and wraps around my wrist, then pulls me back to him.  He matches my amused grin with his own as he tugs me down into his lap and draws me into a real kiss.  Despite the layers of clothes between us, I can feel the scorching heat of his hands as they move up my back.  I love that after nearly a year, we still have these impromptu makeout sessions.  There’s something wonderful about being able to step away from the hectic pace of the day to just fall into each other, if only for a few minutes. 

We finally come up for air and I rest my forehead against his with a small laugh, “Hello to you, too.” 

His thumb comes up to brush a few stray hairs out of my face and he smiles, one of those electric smiles that transforms his whole face, “I’ve been waiting to do that all day.” 

“All day?” 

He nods and brushes his lips along my jawline, “We overslept and barely got to say ‘good morning’ before rushing out the door.”   

My lips curl into a pout, “Yeah… It was one of those rushed mornings.  How was the rest of your day?”

“It was good.  New items for the exhibit are arriving and there was a mix-up with the paperwork –” He nods toward the papers that litter the dining room table, “– and it’s fallen on me to deal with it.”  “How about you – how was your day?” 

I shrug, “It was good.  Nothing out of the ordinary.”  I tug at the hem of my skirt, “I wasn’t on call, so no scrubs today.”

He pinches my side with a grin, “I noticed…”  His free hand travels a slow, determined path up my calf, from my ankle to my knee, “It’s a really hot look.” 

“Well, professional is what I’m _supposed_ to be going for.”

He smirks and clarifies, “This qualifies as both.” 

“Glad to hear it.”  I clear my throat and pause a moment to choose my next words, “So… you asked the other day about my request to ‘call the shots’ for a night.”   

His smile is fond, “I remember.  You told me you’ll let me know when you’re ready.  Is it something you still want to do?” 

I nod, “Yes.”  I straighten my spine and take a deep breath, “Tonight.” 

He nods with a reassuring smile, “We can do it tonight if you’re ready.”     

“I am.  We need to eat first, though.” 

He kisses my lips sweetly, chastely.  “Okay.  I’ll start on dinner.” 

A realization settles over me:  _I’m going to dominate Bellamy tonight._

A different kind of energy surrounds us while we make and eat dinner.  Conversation topics are no different than any other night, and on the surface, one might not notice the change in atmosphere.  But my body buzzes with nervous excitement while my mind finalizes a plan. 

This is different from anything we’ve done before.  An obedient Bellamy is something I haven’t seen in this context. We have plenty of vanilla sex where I’ll ride on top, and other times I give instructions or make requests for things I want him to do to me _(“I want your mouth, Bellamy.  Please, fuck me with your tongue…”)._   But I’ve never given _commands._   I’ve never taken on a purposely dominant role with Bellamy and I’ve never felt compelled to do so.  Sheer curiosity drives me to try it this time. 

He and I have had several discussions about how far he will submit and how much control he’s willing to give over. 

* * *

_[FLASHBACK]_

_“Have you ever done it?”_

_He gives a lopsided smile, “Been submissive?”_

_I nod, “Yeah.”_

_He shakes his head, “The closest thing I’ve come to ‘submissive’ is when I played bottom with Magnus.  Even then, I topped him like half an hour later.  But that had no interplay with other relationships.”_

_“So other than that, you’ve never submitted?”_

_He shakes his head, “No.  It’s not something I’ve ever been comfortable with before.”_

_I take a deep breath, “Are you uncomfortable with it now?”_

_He tilts his head in thought, “As a concept, it feels unnatural for me to hand over the control.  Submitting to my submissive isn’t something I ever considered.”_

_“So you’ve been asked?”_

_He nods, “Yeah, I’ve had subs ask if they could call the shots, but I never went for it.”  He huffs, “Sometimes I kind of felt like an ass when I’d say no, but it wasn’t something that I would put on the table.  Vanilla sex, putting us on equal ground, was as far as I’d go.”_

_I give him an understanding nod, “Did it ever become a point of contention?”_

_He shakes his head lightly, “No.  If they really wanted to try it, I was happy to let them.  Just not with me.”  I raise an eyebrow, waiting for more explanation, so he continues, “I helped find someone they’d be compatible with who was either a sub or willing to take on a sub role for a session.”_

_I furrow my brows, “I wouldn’t want to do… that.”_

_He huffs, “Yeah, no.  I’d have a problem with that, too.”_

_I shrug, “Is it going to be a problem?  To let me take control?”_

_Bellamy smiles gently and shakes his head, then takes my hand in both of his.  His warm hands are dry but soft as he inspects my palm and caresses my fingers.  He fiddles with my engagement ring and looks me in the eye, and the tenderness in his gaze is startling.  “No.  Not at all, Clarke.”_

_I nod, “Okay.”  I send him a smile, “Thank you, then.”_

_“You decided when you want to do it?”_

_I shake my head, “No.  Not yet.  It feels awkward to schedule it, like ‘I will dominate on this day at 6pm.’ And obviously you have some say in it.” I laugh and he smiles back at me._

_“Just let me know.”_

_“I will.”_

* * *

After dinner is over and the kitchen is cleaned up, I turn to face Bellamy.  I clear my throat to get his attention.  “Babe.” 

He drapes the dishtowel over the handle of the stove and turns his attention to me. 

I’m pleased that my voice is strong, unshaking, and resolute when I give Bellamy his first instructions.  “Go into our bedroom and wait for me by the bed.” 

Bellamy nods, “Alright.”  The glint in his eye is almost mischievous.  He leaves the kitchen while I linger behind a moment to gather my thoughts. 

I want as much height as I can get to start, so I slip my heels back on before I walk into the bedroom.  As instructed, Bellamy is standing by the bed, perfectly still, save for his twitching fingers. 

As I walk his direction, I tell him, “There are four rules tonight.” 

He has a smirk on his face, but it fades into a calm, deferential smile as I step closer.  My stern facial expression has its intended effect.  It’s my “game face” at work, and it’s why absolutely no one messes with me. 

“Rule number one.  You may not touch me unless I tell you to.” 

He narrows his eyes as he accepts the challenge (and I intend to make it quite the challenge).  “Understood.  What else?” 

I smirk, “You may not touch _yourself_ unless I permit it.” 

He tilts his head to the side, unsurprised, since it goes hand-in-hand with the first rule.  “Okay.  Rule number three?” 

“Rule number three.  You can’t come until I tell you to.  But I’m sure you expected that one already.”

He nods, “I did.” 

“Rule number four.  You will do as I tell you, _when_ I tell you to do it.  I won’t go past your limits, but I expect obedience.”    

The corners of his mouth twitch up in a quick smile before he schools his features again.  “Understood.” 

“Good.  And finally, your safe words are?” 

“Red to stop, yellow to slow down, green to keep going.” 

I smile, “Very good.” 

He moves to unbutton his shirt, but I quickly trap his wrists in my hands and guide them back to his sides. I shake my head, “Did I tell you to do that?” 

He huffs with a quick shake of his head, “You didn’t.  I’m sorry.” 

I give him a smile, “You’re okay.  I know you’re not used to… _this._ ”  He shrugs a shoulder, then stretches his neck to each side, as if to start fresh.  “But I know you can do better.  Can you be good for me?” 

Bellamy takes a deep breath and nods. 

I shake my head, “Use your words.” 

“I’ll be good.” 

I smile again in approval, “That’s my boy.”  I squeeze his wrists to direct his attention to them, wordlessly telling him not to move them, then I drag my palms up his arms until I reach the collar of his shirt.  Even with my heels, I’m not as tall as he is, but they give me enough height to easily hover my lips before his.  He’s not allowed to kiss me, and he knows it.  Our eyes lock and I can see the anticipation build up in his gaze.  I move to press my lips to his, but just before they touch, I kiss the corner of his mouth instead.  I smirk at his annoyance, but I’m impressed that he’s remained still.  I trail more kisses in a line to his ear, then tug his earlobe gently between my teeth, reveling in the shiver that shoots through his body.  While my fingers unbutton the rest of his shirt, I leave a trail of kisses along the line of his jaw, down his neck, grazing my teeth over his Adam’s apple before I dip my tongue into the hollow at the base of his throat. 

I gather his shirt in my hands as I push it off his shoulders until it’s bunched up at his elbows.  His smirk confirms his amusement at the fact that his shirt isn’t going to come any farther down until I allow him to move his arms.  He looks mildly confused as I step behind him, and rather than try to push the shirt down further, I grasp his elbows to gently guide them behind his back.  I press them toward each other – not dramatically so, but enough so that his hands will be useless.  I tie the ends of the shirt together in a knot, then roll the excess material into itself, tucking in loose ends as needed to create a clean line along the top edges of my makeshift elbow restraint.  This also eliminates slack.  Next, I move my hands to the cuff of one wrist, then roll it up his forearms until it meets the rest of the shirt, where I tuck in the loose fabric.  This keeps the fabric somewhat anchored in place and prevents it from slipping down his arms if he tries to tuck his elbows closer together.  I repeat the action on the other side, then step back. 

“Push against them.  It’s not supposed to be completely immobilizing or anything.  Just a strong reminder to keep your hands to yourself unless directed otherwise.”

He looks over his shoulder and inspects the part of the restraint he can see, then flexes his arms against it.  He has a proud smile, “Very clever.” 

“Thank you.”  I inspect his hands and arms for impaired circulation.  “Are you feeling any numbness or tingling?”

He shakes his head, “No.  I’m good.”   

Regrettably, his undershirt is still covering up his beautiful torso.  I figured this would be the case, since I knew I wouldn’t be removing his button-down until later. 

I step around his front and inspect him, “This won’t do.”  He raises an eyebrow in question so I clarify, “I want to see more of you…” 

“You’re the one who left the shirt on.”  I roll my eyes at his self-satisfied smirk. 

I clear my throat and stand straighter, “I know.  I just didn’t think I’d feel so… _deprived,_ not being able to see all of this.” As I speak, I sneak my hands under his shirt and press my palms to his abdomen, eliciting twitches and goosebumps as I curl my fingertips and scrape them along the planes of muscle.  I take my hands back and step away to retrieve a pair of scissors.

I hold the scissors up for him to see, “Problem solved.” 

He nods in consent, and I snip a notch into the bottom hem of the T-shirt before setting the scissors aside.  I look him in the eye, and can’t resist the drama of ripping the shirt straight up the middle.  His gaze darkens at the sharp sound of tearing fabric, and he nearly falls forward with force of the tug.  I step into him and press my lips to his as my hands finish the job, splitting the garment all the way to his neck.  I drag my tongue across the seam of his lips and he instantly grants me entrance.  His predatory growl settles over me while I almost get lost in him.  I remind myself that I’ve only just gotten started, so I break the kiss, sharing his disappointed sigh as my lips abandon his.  I press my forehead to his for a moment before I step away again. 

I rake my gaze over the visible skin, then pick the scissors back up and cut the sleeves so I can pull the t-shirt completely off his body.

“That’s better.”  I drag my fingers along his chest, then down his abdomen until I reach the waistband of his pants.  He looks pleased as ever that I can’t resist his body.  I unfasten his belt, then the button and zipper so that I can slip my hands inside his pants.  When I palm his cock through the material of his boxer-briefs, we are both startled by the sheer volume of his voice when he moans in response. 

I rub my palm against him just a bit harder and his entire body twitches.  He closes his eyes and drops his head forward, but catches himself before he falls.  Beyond pleased with his reaction, I smile, “Tell me, does that feel good?” 

“ _Fuck,_ yeah it-.”  He shudders mid-sentence.  “-it feels really good.” 

I nod, “Good… that makes me happy.” 

The man whines – actually _whines_ – when I pull my hand away.  He opens his eyes and snaps his gaze to mine when I steady him with a hand to his waist. 

“Relax for me.” 

He nods and takes a deep breath, then I grasp the waistband of his pants and pull them down over his hips.  They drop the rest of the way down and I nudge him to step out of them.  Next I tease the waist of his boxer-briefs, dipping my fingers inside and grazing the base of his shaft before I pull away again.  He bites back the beginning of a whimper at the ghost of contact, and he almost doesn’t catch himself before chasing my hand with his hips.  

Amused by his waning control, I slowly peel away his last remaining item of clothing.  We both release an audible gasp as his heavy cock springs free from its confines.  He’s already fully erect, his foreskin completely retracted to expose the raw, throbbing tip.    

“God… your cock is so gorgeous.”  Unable to keep my hands away, I wrap my hand around the base and his entire body surges into me.  With my other hand, I press a palm against his stomach to steady him, “Shhh, calm down.”  Bellamy huffs a laugh and nods.  I squeeze my hand firmly around him.  Not too hard, but enough to pull a pleasured whimper from the broad man who stands before me.  I press my thumb to the underside of his shaft and draw a strong line from the base to the tip, where I gather the beads of pre-come gathered there.  With a feather-light touch, I spread the glistening fluid over the tip of his cock before releasing him completely. 

I swallow his frustrated whimper with a heated kiss, and I can feel the furious flexing of his upper arms against the makeshift restraint at his elbows.  After a moment, I detach and step away completely to get a view of my fiancé.  My breath hitches when I see how utterly _wrecked_ he is, and I’ve barely touched him.  Though to be fair, that’s probably _why_ he looks so wrecked.   

He bores his eyes into mine, “Ple-.”  His voice breaks so he clears his throat, “Please…”

I shake my head, “Shhh, not yet.  But soon, I promise.”  He nods in compliance as I take another couple of steps back.  I tease the buttons of my shirt and he nods frantically for me to take it off.

“You want me to take this off?”

He blows out a chest full of air and the choked sound of his voice is a victory all its own.  “Jesus, _fuck_ yes.”

I raise an eyebrow, “Where are your manners?” 

He shakes his head quickly, “I’m sorry.”  His self-deprecating laugh is breathless, “But fuck _,_ please – I need to see you.” 

I nod “Since you asked nicely…”  I methodically remove my blouse and camisole, leaving me in just my bra while my lower half is still clothed. 

He groans, furrows his brows, glares angrily at my bra, as if he can will it out of existence if he stares hard enough.  I smirk as I trail my fingers to the side of my skirt, unfasten the hook and slide the zipper open.  I tease myself, grazing my fingers under the waistband and pulling it down about an inch or so.  I turn casually to the side to reveal to him the top edge of the lace panties that match my bra.  At this point, I think he might be attempting to telepathically tear it off of my chest. 

I hook a finger underneath my bra strap and pull it off my shoulder, letting it fall slightly down my arm.  “You want this off, I can tell.”  He nods feverishly and I continue, “Do you wonder if it’s going to make it harder to keep your hands under control?  If the rest of my body is bared to you?” 

His mouth drops open, like he hadn’t thought of that yet.  He thinks about it for another few seconds before he shakes his head, “I don’t fucking care. Just take it off… _Please_.” 

I hold a finger up, “Soon.  I promise, soon.” 

He closes his eyes again and I slowly shimmy the rest of the way out of my skirt.  Still wearing my heels, I step out of it, then kick it to the side.  Bellamy chooses that moment to look up at me, and the penetrating expression on his face sends a bolt of lust straight through me. 

“Jesus fucking Christ…”  He shakes his head, then looks at the ceiling briefly before looking back at me again.  I swear to god, the heat in his eyes brands my skin as he rakes his gaze over my body.  “Fucking look at you…”

I attempt to tamp down the shivers that shoot through my body as I walk back to him.  I lick my lips as I feast my eyes on his cock, red-tipped and throbbing.  Despite being strung tight as a bowstring, he has remained remarkably still.  I step close, then walk around behind him, gratuitously grazing his arm with my breasts on the way. 

“You’ve been so good for me.”  I smile at his amused huff.  “I’m going to untie this, okay?”  He nods and I deftly untie and unroll the fabric of his shirt and slide down his arms, then I toss it to the side.  I squeeze gentle massaging patterns on his arms as I press a gentle kiss between his shoulder blades. 

“You can move your arms a bit if you need.”  He rolls his shoulders, and I remind him, “But remember.  No touching.”

He huffs, “I remember.” 

I step around to stand before him again.  “On your knees.”  Without missing a beat he sinks down in front of me, his own gaze never leaving mine as he awaits further instruction.  I touch a hand to his cheek, “That’s my boy.”  I press a curious hand to his shoulder and push against him, just to test his balance.  I put a little more force behind another push, and I’m impressed to find that his solid stance doesn’t waver. 

I smile in approval, “Very good.”  

He smirks at the praise.  He doesn’t quite take to it like a _submissive._   His expressions are those of a person who has challenged himself to meet an objective, and each test he passes is a personal victory.  This activity goes against every natural instinct in his body, and I’m both amazed and overwhelmed with love for him. 

The wait drives him crazy, I can see it in his eyes.  His cock juts out proudly from his frame like a flagpole and I have to remind myself, again, that I’m supposed to draw this out, no matter how much I want to take him in my mouth.  I lightly brush against it with my bare calf and with a startled cry, his whole body drives forward.  Still, he doesn’t fall.  I step close to him, so my leg is pressed all along his front and I allow him to rest his head on my abdomen while I rake my fingers through his hair.  I watch his body twitch with the need to do _something_.  Well… 

I cup his face with my hand and tilt it to face me.  My voice is sweet but firm, “Take off my panties.”  Bellamy grins, then starts to bring his hands up, but before they reach my hips I shake my head and tap the side of his face with my palm.  “No.  No hands.”  He’s a big fan of ‘no hands’ when we play, and I’m legitimately curious about how talented _he_ is at completing tasks hands-free, considering how often he demands it of me (not that I mind in the slightest…).  I’m honestly not surprised when he divests me of my underwear with remarkable speed using only his mouth.  I moan at the implications of how that translates into his superb oral skills.  My body is overwhelmed with a jolt of pleasure when his fingers part my folds, then dip into me to gather my wetness.  Holy _fuck_ it feels good.  I snap back out of it when I remember that I didn’t tell him to do this. 

I tangle my fingers into his hair and tug his head back so he faces me fully.  I shake my head in admonishment and wag my finger, as if I’m correcting a child, “Nuh uh.  I said, no touching.” 

He sighs, “I couldn’t resist.  Do you know how fucking gorgeous you are?” 

I fight the shiver that shoots down my spine at his words, “That doesn’t matter.  You can’t touch until I tell you to.”  I tilt my head to the bed, “Get on the bed and lie down on your back.” 

He complies, but not without shooting me a questioning glance.  I finally step out of my heels and stand at the edge of the bed to observe Bellamy while he waits obediently on his back for me to do _something_.  His eyes are closed, his breaths are slow and deep.  I know that he’s taking himself through visualization exercises to calm down and distract himself from the throbbing want that threatens to overcome him.  While I personally _revel_ in that sensation, I can see that he’s nearing the end of his rope.  I watch him for a minute more before I call for his attention.

“Babe.” 

His eyes shoot open and he turns his head to face me.  I give him a wicked smirk as I reach behind to unhook my bra and my breasts practically spring free.  He groans in frustration when I purposely leave the straps on my shoulders.  All I need to do is bend forward slightly, or loosen my shoulders, and I’ll be bare for his gaze.  It’s tempting as hell, but I’m thoroughly enjoying his frustrated responses to my teasing. 

Bellamy looks away and scrubs a hand over his face before returning his eyes to almost-naked body.  I laugh softly when he scowls at my bra again. 

“Do you need something?” 

He groans, “You know you’re fucking killing me here, right?” 

I shrug and dance my fingers over my bra straps.  His gaze is fixed on my chest, unblinking, as if he might miss something if his eyes were to close.  I let one strap fall back down to my elbow and I see his cock twitch.

He groans, “Please, give me _something_.  I’m fucking dying here.” 

I sigh, my voice laced with amusement and condescension, “Rest assured, you’re not actually dying.” 

Bellamy huffs, “Says the one _not_ being teased to death right now.”

My lips curl up into a smirk, “Oh, Babe… I’m in your exact position on a regular basis.  There isn’t a person in the world who understands what you’re feeling better than I can.”  I bend down and whisper, “And I’m not _nearly_ ready to give in just yet.”  I walk to the foot of the bed, “Spread your legs open.”  The expediency with which he complies is almost startling.  I smile as I crawl onto the mattress between his legs, “Very good.  See?  You _can_ be good, can’t you?” 

He rolls his head back with a grunt.  Unsatisfied with his response, I lay a sharp tap to his thigh, “Answer the question: Can you be good?”

He nods, his face in a pained grimace, his fists clenching and unclenching.  His voice has a choked quality that makes me crazy with lust, “I’ll be good.  I’ll do whatever you want – fucking anything.” 

I smirk, “That’s my boy.”  I let my bra fall off with a sigh, then drag my bare breasts along his leg as I make my way to his cock.  While paying such close attention to Bellamy, I forgot how incredibly needy my own body is.  After the extended absence of stimulation, the sensation of his coarse leg hairs against my sensitive nipples is staggeringly intense and I let go my own wanton moan.  His eyes shoot open and he lifts his head to see me.  I repeat the motion up his other leg and my hand travels of its own accord to my dripping pussy. 

His hips jerk forward while he grinds out in a choked voice, “Jesus _fuck_ … that’s so fucking hot.”  When he sees that my hand has disappeared between my legs, he fucking _yelps,_ “Shit.  Holy shit, are you touching yourself right now?” 

I shoot him a devious smile as I nod, “Mmm hmm.  Do you know how wet I am right now?” 

He shakes his head, breathless, “How wet?” 

To answer, I straddle his thigh and grind gently against it, much to his vulgar delight.  He digs his head back into the mattress, then looks up again, his face a picture of pure lust.  I take note of his cock, standing at attention like a solid pole, weeping with beads of pre-come. 

“You’re fucking drenching my leg while you fuck yourself on me… holy fucking shit.”  With a lustful gaze, he flexes his thigh muscles under my cunt to give me even more stimulation.  He groans, “Seriously, that’s so fucking hot.” 

As good as it feels, I have a job to finish.  I scoot myself down his legs a bit and scratch my nails against his thighs as my hands make their way to his aching shaft.  Without much more teasing, I swirl my tongue around his tip, then close my mouth over it.  I give him a light suck and I’m about to pull away when he fists his fingers in my hair by instinct.  His cock surges into my mouth while he holds my face down on it.  I want so badly to just _give in_ , let him have his way with my face while he fucks into my throat… But, no.  I pinch his thigh and he immediately releases me. 

I pull my head away, shaking it side-to-side with disappointment. 

“Babe…” 

He groans, clearly frustrated by my demands for him to sit still _._   I glance down again and _dear god,_ his cock is beautiful, and hard, and _mine,_ if just for the night.  I want so badly to take him back into my mouth.  It’s practically second nature to me.  He of course knows exactly what I’m thinking and shoots me a knowing smirk.  In response, I lay a sharp tap on his thigh, just to remind him that _he’s_ the one on his back here.  He narrows his eyes before he nods in acquiescence.  I reach into the drawer in the bedside table and retrieve two lengths of rope. 

I clear my throat again, “Do you trust me?”

His eyes dart quickly to the ropes in my hand, then his tongue darts out to wet his lips and he gives me a quick nod.  I need more than just a gesture to feel comfortable with this. 

My tone is a gentle reprimand, “Use your words.” 

His gaze snaps to mine and immediately softens when he affirms, “I trust you.  Always.” 

I’m stunned by the sincerity in his voice.  It’s not new information, and it’s not even the first time he’s said those exact words.  But it’s the first time I’ve asked for his trust and compliance while hovering over his naked and vulnerable form, ropes in hand and ready to use.  I’m not sure why those words strike something deep inside this time – _I trust you. Always._   Tears prick the corners of my eyes.  I blink them away and focus again on the task at hand, but Bellamy saw them, and his fingers twitch with the instinct to cradle my face and find out what’s wrong.  But, I haven’t given him permission to touch me.  I acknowledge him with a smile and a soft kiss to his forehead to let him know that I’m okay, let’s keep going. 

I tell him, “If this gets to be too much, you just have to say the word, okay?” 

He nods, “I know.” 

I scoot back to straddle his thighs, then quickly fashion sturdy single-column ties around each of his wrists, making sure I’m still able to fit two fingers between his wrists and the rope.  I catch his gaze a few times, and his proud expression floods me with warmth.  Then I have him pull against them to make sure the knots don’t tighten or loosen with movement.  The activity gives me a moment to check-in with my thoughts, as well as observe Bellamy’s body language.  He is calm now, but I can tell he’s calculating and trying to predict my next move (this man is _not_ built to be a submissive, which makes me all the more grateful that he’ll do this).  

“I’m going to fasten your arms above your head, okay?” 

He smirks, “Okay.”

I stand up off the mattress and tap the bindings around his wrists, “Perhaps these will help you to remember that your body-” One hand leaves his wrists to make a slow path along his torso as the other guides his arms above his head, “-is mine right now.”  I study his face for a response and I feel an undeniable sense of relief as I meet the glimmer of pride in his eyes.  I smile back at him as I methodically fasten the ropes to rings on the bedframe, located specifically for the purposes of restraints.  “Pull against them and tell me if you feel any numbness, tingling or pain.”

I check the knots for slippage as he does as I asked, then shakes his head wordlessly. 

I dig my fingernails into his triceps and bite back a groan at the feeling of his corded muscle under my fingertips.  I remind him, “Use your words, Bellamy.” 

He clears his throat and confirms, “No numbness, tingling, or pain.” 

“How about your shoulders?”  I take the opportunity to drag my fingertips along his arms, scraping my nails lightly over his deltoids while I await Bellamy’s answer, which comes in the form of a wordless, indiscernible grunt.  I dig my nails into his arms to catch his attention.  Not hard enough to break skin, but with enough pressure to leave crescent-shaped indents.  I repeat, “Your shoulders, Bellamy?” 

He squints, like he’s trying to orient himself before answering.  “My shoulders are fine.”

I pause a moment, because something is off.  I crawl back onto the bed so he can see my face.  I clear my throat and the tone of my voice shifts from commanding to concern.  “Are you okay, Bellamy?” 

He furrows his brows and thinks a moment before he answers, “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.  Just-” I wait for him to finish but he doesn’t. 

“Just… _?”_   I prompt as warmly as possible.

He searches my eyes, studies my face with his response, “Just, don’t leave me here.  This is fine, if you’re here.  But you have to stay here.” 

I smile gently, “I’ll be here the whole time, okay?” 

It dawns on me that for all the kink experience he has, maybe he’s never been tied up like this.  I didn’t think to ask him when we were negotiating limits days before, which was an error on my part.  He told me he’d be fine with light rope restraints, such as wrist bindings, but I didn’t bother to ask him if he’d actually been restrained like this.  I’ve practiced knots and ties on his limbs in an educational context, or when we’re relaxing on the couch watching TV.  But I’ve never restrained him flat on his back, completely bared to me and at my mercy.  Now I feel like I’m handling spun glass, and it’s an overwhelming feeling, to be responsible for someone else’s experience.  I suddenly realize that more than just Bellamy’s pleasure is at stake.  If I fuck this up, there’s a chance I could somehow fuck _him_ up. 

“Have you been tied up like this before?” 

He closes his eyes and shakes his head, “Not like this.” 

I nod understandingly, “I didn’t realize that.  Do you want me to take them off?  I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.  Or… traumatized.”

He shakes his head, “I think the only thing that would be traumatizing would be if I was in here alone with-” he arches his neck to look above at his wrist restraints “-these still holding me down.”

I kiss his forehead, “I won’t leave you alone.  I promise.” 

Bellamy looks me in the eye with a stare that is somehow both penetrating and vulnerable, then nods, “Okay.” 

With a smile I ask, “Are you good to go on?” 

He nods, “I am.” 

“Your color?”

He smiles, “Green.  I can keep going.”

“Very good.” 

I scoot back down between his legs to return to my task.  Run my hands up his outstretched and wide-spread legs, gently and teasingly scraping my fingernails along his thighs until I get to his hip bone.  His body shivers as I trail my fingers along his waist, just below where his pants usually sit.  My lips follow my fingers and I lap at his skin with soft strokes of my tongue.   When I reach the hollow of his hip, right where his thighs meet his groin, I dip my tongue in.  I repeat the action on the other side until he’s panting with need. 

I walk my fingers along his pubic bone, deftly avoiding his throbbing cock.  “You’re being so good for me.” 

He groans, clearly frustrated and keening for more.  I take his shaft in hand and slowly push it up and back against his abdomen, then poke my tongue out to tease the skin between his cock and balls.  His body jerks upward and I smirk against him before I lap at the skin underneath.  If he weren’t tied in place on the bed, this would be the time I’d suck on his balls, but it’s an awkward angle… Instead I lick softly at the skin around them, then roll them ever-so-gently in my palm while I lick a strong line on the underside of his cock, from the base almost to the tip.  His whole body is tense and he grunts incomprehensible sounds, seemingly incoherent with want. 

I tease the exposed underside of his retracted foreskin with soft flicks of my tongue while I squeeze my hand around the base of his cock.  With my fist firmly around him, I stroke more pre-come out and coat my lips with it.  His body shudders when I close my lips around the head and suck gently.  His hips surge up, but I’m prepared for it this time, so I hold his hips down with my free hand. 

“ _Fuck_ , more… I need… more.”  I smile around his cock, then suck a little harder before taking the entirety of him in. 

When my throat muscles swallow around the tip of his cock, his whole body tenses and he pulls against the ropes above him, _“Jesus, fuck –_ Oh god.”  He’s close to the edge so I pull back a moment.  I hear this is torturous, even painful, for men – to stop on the cusp of orgasmSo, I feel a _little_ bad for pulling away.  I wipe away saliva from the corners of my mouth with the back of my hand and smirk at his frustrated expression.  Truthfully, the image of a desperate Bellamy stretched out and restrained on the bed is a little overwhelming. 

I shake my head, “Not yet.”  It’s a delicate line I’m at.  If I stop at the wrong time, or don’t resume stimulation quickly enough, it’ll result in a ruined orgasm, which is the opposite of the desired outcome… 

He rasps, exasperated, “I swear to god, I’ll do anything.” 

I raise an eyebrow, “Anything?”  I chuckle, “Like what?” 

“Anything, whatever you fucking want, just please, don’t stop.” 

“That’s quite a blank check…”  I smirk, “Fine, I won’t stop.  Just remember, I haven’t given you permission to come yet.” 

As I take him back in my mouth, he chokes out, _“Oh goddammit…”_   God, the way he fills my mouth, my throat, my mind… it’s like paradise.  There’s something I never thought I’d believe: that sucking cock would be paradise.  But this is Bellamy’s cock.  So many things about it are heavenly. 

After taking him to the edge and back at least twice, lift my head away, but mimic the movements of my mouth with my hand while I speak.  (I promised I wouldn’t stop, after all). 

“Should I let you come?”

This man – this dominant, intimidating, beautiful man – is below me, chest heaving, begging for something only _I_ can give him. 

The tendons in his neck are so tight they might pop when he nods frantically, “ _Please_ … I swear...”

“Okay.  I’m gonna put my mouth back on you, and when I tap your hip three times, you’re gonna come down my throat.”  I squeeze a little harder for effect.  “Can you do that for me, babe?  Can you give me your come?” 

He drops his head back and a string of obscenities drips from his desperate lips.  Then, “Yes.  _Please,_ yes.” 

I swirl my tongue around the head and take him back in until he’s deep in my throat.  The lurch of his body as I swallow around him is wholly satisfying.  When I tap my permission, his release is nothing short of glorious.  His whole body shakes and surges as he empties himself down my throat, and I suck him off like it’s the best fucking thing I’ve ever tasted.  I clean him off thoroughly but gently, aware of his hypersensitivity after orgasm. 

I sit back up and look down at the wrecked man before me.  I smile when I consider: _I did this_.  While he continues to come back around, I lick soft patterns along the beautiful planes of muscle on his abdomen.  When I flick my tongue on his nipples his chest jerks forward before he can stop it.  I chuckle at his surprise reaction. 

His breaths even out and he opens his eyes, “Holy fuck.” 

I laugh, “Well… fuck is accurate.  I don’t know that there’s anything ‘holy’ about it.”  I roll my pelvis and grind myself on his thigh, and the sensation of his scratchy hair on my bare cunt is quite heavenly.  Even more so than it was earlier. 

He lifts his head up to look down at my cunt where it grinds relentlessly on him.  “Shit… You’re fucking yourself on me again.” 

I give him a sultry look while I gyrate above him, “Your body is mine… I’ll use it how I see fit.”  His fingers twitch in the restraints above him, and I know he’s picturing himself playing with my nipples.  I gather up some of my own wetness before bringing my fingers to my breasts and tweaking my nipples for him. 

“ _Jesusfuckingchrist…_ that’s so fucking hot…” He huffs, “ _You’re_ so fucking hot.” 

I look down and see he’s already getting hard again… In my original plan, I was going to end the night by sitting on his face while he licked me through a few mind-blowing orgasms.  I’m hit with the realization that without Bellamy’s firm hand guiding me, I might not come as hard, or at all… I’ve had enough of this dominance shit for one night. It’s fun, but it’s a lot of fucking work, and I miss the intensity of pleasure I get from submitting to Bellamy. The promise of a mind blowing orgasm with Bellamy in charge outweighs the fun of this experiment. 

I rise off of him to release the bed restraints then crawl back onto the bed to straddle his waist while I untie his wrists and inspect them for any marks. Bellamy’s body nearly vibrates below me.  My heart races with anticipation when I see how incredibly desperate he is to ravish me.

I’m not _even_ ashamed of the desperation in my voice when I beg him, “Touch me… please.”  Without wasting a second, he greedily explores my achingly sensitive body with insistent hands while I bend down and slant my lips over his mouth, drawing him into an intoxicating kiss.  I pull back and rest my forehead against his.  Breathlessly, I surrender, “I’m done.  Please… do what you want with me.” 

He growls, the noise colored with both relief and hunger, as he flips us over and descends on me.  He tangles his fingers into my hair and pulls my head roughly to one side.  Shivers shoot through me while his teeth graze my neck before he bites harshly onto my collarbone.  

Bellamy’s hand disappears between us and he slips his fingers into me. 

He smirks, “I’d say _something_ turned you on.”

I sigh, “Obviously… We can talk after, fuck me first.”

He stops, the look on his face menacing, “Are you, or are you not, done giving me orders?”  Words cannot do justice to the explosion of lust that overwhelms me at his words. 

Our eyes lock, “I’m done, Sir.” 

He curses under his breath and suddenly fills me with one powerful, heaven-sent thrust that wrenches my thighs open so wide, I actually hear the slap of skin as the outsides collide with the sheets.  Buried to the hilt, he pauses and rests his forehead against mine while his fingers brush my neck. 

His lips are a hair’s breadth from mine, “I wanted to be inside you so fucking bad…”

My mouth quirks into a smile, “Me, too.”  I tighten my walls around him and his whole body surges reflexively into mine.  I hook a leg around his waist, but before I can anchor myself there, he grasps my ankle and unwraps it.  He slips out of me when he grabs my other ankle, then presses my legs up by my head to fold me in half.  These are the times when I’m grateful for the flexibility I’ve maintained through Yoga.  He leaves his hands on the back of my ankles to keep me folded over, then spreads his knees to widen his stance.  He releases one ankle and I hold my leg in place with my hand while he grasps himself to line up with my entrance. 

When he doesn’t move, I whimper, “Please!” 

Bellamy’s smirk is wicked, and I know this is payback for the torment I just inflicted upon him.  My heart speeds up with excitement for whatever is to come.

“Patience, Princess.”  He taps the head of his heavy cock against my clit, and the contact sends zings of pleasure through me.  My eyes dart to his, and his darkened expression forces the air from my lungs.  He rests his cock just at the boundary of my cunt, then brings his hand back to my ankle.  He narrows his eyes as a brief warning, then snaps his hips forward so his cock roughly (wonderfully) impales the swollen flesh of my pussy.  His loud groan matches mine in erotic harmony as he bottoms out inside of me.  As he slowly pulls back out, I reach above my head and plant my hands on the bedpost for leverage.  I _know_ how hard he wants to fuck me like this.  And _oh god,_ he does not disappoint.  My gasp transforms into a full-bodied moan that bobs with each powerful snap of his hips.  His gaze is fixed where his cock disappears over and over into me, and the ravenous look on his face is almost too much to handle.

A divine pressure begins to coil at my core, threatening to explode, and as if he can tell (he definitely can), he stops.  He lets my right leg come down and rest straight for a moment, then straddles my thigh and sinks back into me.  He still presses my other leg up by my ear, then thrusts into me again at the same relentless pace as before.  My throat protests the pleasured cries that I’m unable to suppress. 

His graveled voice penetrates me as he voices profane thoughts and encouragements, “You feel so goddamn good around me…”  His fingers dig into me and my voice bobs with every thrust while he drives into me, over and over again.  “God, I love fucking you…”  His eyes feel like a physical caress as he beholds my writhing form. 

Bellamy pulls my free leg up and holds it flush against his torso, already slick with sweat.  With each plunge, he grinds against my clit and the motion allows his cock to explore the deepest parts of me.  Beads of sweat drip down his forehead onto my calf, and he chases the trail with his lips while his tongue darts out to taste the salt on my skin.  He shifts his hips slightly and hits a wonderfully sensitive spot inside of me that draws out a lecherous groan.  I bring a fist to my mouth to muffle my cries, but Bellamy shakes his head and pulls my arm away. 

“Nuh uh.  I wanna year you…” He huffs a gravelly laugh, “Fuck, I want the _neighbors_ to hear you.” 

Bellamy gives a particularly effective thrust to that end, and the sounds that escape me are downright obscene.  He bends down to capture my lips with his own and pulls me into a devouring kiss that nearly sends me over the edge.

I pull away with a sharp gasp, “Oh _god,_ please! I’m gonna come, Sir!”  I feel the curl of pleasure in my toes, the pressure building in my core, “ _Please,_ stop or let me come… I can’t stop it…”

He shakes his head and soothes, “Shhh, Not yet… You can hold it for me.” 

My head thrashes from side to side and my eyes slam shut, because the image of Bellamy relentlessly fucking me is too much to handle.  His voice _drips_ with sex right now.  I get light-headed at his vulgar tone while he utters his filthy thoughts and praises against the lit-up nerve endings on my skin.  I shift my focus to _anything_ but the pleasure that’s bursting to escape me – the slap of his skin against mine, the sound of blood rushing through my head, the drag of sheets underneath our bodies.  Finally, I’m able to edge myself down.

“That’s it, Princess… I told you, you could do it.”  The stubble of his five-o’clock shadow abrades the sensitive flesh of my calf as his lips trail along, his teeth lightly grazing me. 

“Oh, god!” My whole body jolts when he presses his thumb to my clit, sending a surge of unexpected pleasure through me.  He smiles at the way my body shakes while I keep my orgasm at bay.  He cherishes my agony as I control the bliss that burns inside of me. 

“That’s a good girl, just hold it there for me.”  I whimper at the term that is my kryptonite...  He wraps his hands around my hips and pulls me roughly against him as he increases the intensity with each thrust, and just like that I’m about to topple over again.  “I can feel it, Princess… you need to come, don’t you?” 

I nod as I bite my lip so hard that tears well up behind my eyes.  “Please…” 

“Alright, Princess… Come for me, _now_.”

And as if awaiting for permission, my orgasm completely _shatters_ me.  My ears ring and time slows as my entire body tenses in ecstasy.  I vaguely register that the ragged moan that surrounds me is, in fact, my own.  My eyes are sealed shut and my chest heaves as pure bliss pulsates through my trembling body. 

Suddenly I’m on my stomach with my ass propped up on a small pillow.  Bellamy straddles the outside of my legs, spreads the flesh of my thighs and ass apart, and surges into my still-convulsing cunt.

He wheezes in surprise, “ _Jesusfuckingchrist_ , you’re still coming?”  My first attempts at speech are mere whimpers.  I thought it was too soon to orgasm again, and maybe I didn’t, but new angle of invasion immediately sends me into an even higher summit of pleasure.  Bellamy covers my shivering body with his own, interlacing our fingers and anchoring our hands above my head while he fucks into me harder and harder.  He loses all semblance of rhythm and I know he’s approaching climax.

My plea is desperate, “ _Please_ , come inside me…”

I revel in the sound of Bellamy’s guttural moans as his body jerks and his hips propel themselves into mine while he _finally_ empties himself into my depths.  He collapses on top of me, and it’ll probably be difficult to breathe soon, but for now I relish his weight as it pins me into the mattress.  The random aftershocks of orgasm draw satisfied grunts out of the man on top of me.     

His breaths are still harsh in my ear, “Oh. My. God.” 

I squeeze his fingers between my own and breathe, “Yeah…”

After a few more moments, he rolls off of me and flops down to my side, then pulls me up to rest on his chest.  My fingers curl along his bare chest as we lie in comfortable silence. 

Just as I’m dozing off, I feel his voice rumble, “What did you think?”

I look up at him with a lazy smile, “It was… different.”

“Different, huh?”

I chuckle, “Yeah.  What about you?”

 “I didn’t hate it.”  He looks me in the eye and senses my concern that I messed it up or something.  Immediately he assuages my fears.  He gently traps my chin with his thumb, “Hey, _you_ were amazing.  You took to the responsibility really naturally, from my perspective.”  He huffs with a smirk, “I mean, shit – it felt really fucking good at the end.”

I nuzzle against him, “Good.” 

“What are your thoughts, besides it being ‘different’?”

I shrug, “Well, like you, I didn’t hate it, but it was a lot of work to have to pay such close attention to each reaction so I could try and anticipate things quickly enough.” I chuckle, “I’ll be honest, your frustration was amusing as hell…”

He rolls his eyes, “Yeah, that was something I’m definitely not used to.” 

“Being denied?” 

He nods, “Yeah.  Then just focusing on that denial more and more ended up making it exponentially more torturous, you know?” 

I laugh, “I can definitely say that I _do_ know.  It’s interesting, I was watching you, and it was like you were into it, but not the same way I’m into it.” 

“I guess that’s to be expected, given our normal roles.”  He pauses a moment, “How do you mean, though, specifically?”

“Well, you’re well aware of my praise kink,” he nods in agreement and I continue, “But when the roles are switched, it seems like it affects you differently.  Like, I get off on it… I _really_ get off on it.  But you?”  He furrows his brows and waits for me to gather my thoughts.  “It seemed more like you were _satisfied_.  Whereas it makes me _desperate_ for more.”

He nods, “I think I get what you mean.”  His fingers trail absent patterns on my back while he speaks, “You’re right, it’s not really a specific turn-on for me.  It wasn’t a turn- _off_.”  He looks suddenly concerned he insulted me, “That’s not to say you did it wrong or anything.” 

I shrug with a smile, “I know.  It’s just not who you are in here.”  I chuckle softly and press my finger into his chest, “And who knew?  _You_ are _terrible_ at following rules…”

He scoffs with mock offense, “I follow rules all the damn time.” 

I grin, “Not in this context.” 

“That’s true.  I didn’t think it would be that difficult, though.”

“What wouldn’t be that difficult?”

“Following the rules... Well, I knew not touching you would be difficult, but I think I overestimated my willpower when I thought it would be simple enough not to give in.” 

“Well, I made it a point to make things difficult in that regard.”

He huffs, “That’s for damn sure.”  After a few minutes of comfortable silence, he speaks again, “When you switched gears, and said you were ‘done,’ it seemed kind of sudden.  What happened there?” 

I smile, “I just thought about the fact that your… direction and commands – they make things so much more powerful for me in terms of climax, and pleasure in general.”  I rest my chin on his chest, “I literally did a short pro-con list in my head, deciding whether I should sit on your face and order you to eat me out, or put the ball back in your court.” 

He grins and I swear his chest puffs up with well-deserved pride, “Well…” He chuckles, “I’ll say it again, for the record, you were really good in that role tonight.  And I would’ve been fine to keep going.” 

“Good…  I should’ve asked about the ropes thing earlier, though.”

He gives me a lop-sided smile and brushes his thumb along my cheek, “It didn’t cross my mind, either.  Not until I was there.”

“Did it trigger something specific?”

He furrows his brows, “I guess it wasn’t until I felt the immobility caused by restraints that it hit me.”   

“What hit you?”                               

“The fact that I was _vulnerable_ in an unfamiliar way.  And it was uncomfortable in that respect.”  He thinks a moment before he continues, “I’ve been in restraints before – when I was learning how to tie.  For me, part of developing skills as a ropes top involved having myself tied first.  It gave me an understanding of what each position or tie felt like for the bottom.  And there are the times when you practice knots on me, too.  So it’s not like it was completely new.”

“But it was different this time.”  

He nods, “I wasn’t at anyone’s mercy those times.  There wasn’t any feeling of helplessness because it was essentially… educational in context.” 

“That makes sense.”  After a moment, “I’m sorry I didn’t think of it before.”

He shakes his head, “Don’t be.  You made it okay – staying close, maintaining contact, talking to me – you made it comfortable.”    

I kiss his chest, “I just thought about what you do for me, and tried to emulate it.  That goes for pretty much everything tonight.”

Bellamy smiles gently, “I noticed.  I was pretty proud of you for it, too.” 

“Thanks.” 

“So is this a one-and-done thing?  Or do you want to do it again in the future?” 

I shrug, “I’m not opposed to a repeat.  You?”

Bellamy smiles gently, “Not opposed either.  I honestly thought I might hate it.  But it was an interesting change-up.” 

I think about the way he overpowered me after I was “done” and I can’t stifle a moan.  He raises an eyebrow in question and I laugh softly, “I was just thinking about just now… when you took over again.”

“And?”  His low voice sends shivers through me. 

“It was breathtaking.  Like, fucking amazing.  I don’t know if it was because it was such a sudden and stark reversal of the roles, or if you were extra… dominant on purpose.  But that alone was just…”

He shoots me a cocky grin, “Yeah.”  His fingers drum soft and slow against my naked back while we bask in comfortable silence.  He looks down at me and says, “Three months…”

I smile, “Three months.  You excited?”

He nods, “Of course I am.  You’ll be finally be my wife.” 

I rest my ear over his heart, listening to the steady, powerful beats.  “I’m glad we’re doing an actual wedding.”

He chuckles, “Really?  I couldn’t tell.  Between your firing of three wedding planners and chewing out two bakeries, I was thinking you were hating idea again.”

I shrug, “Oh, don’t worry, I hate planning it.  But it will be worth it, to be able to have the people we love there.”  I huff, “And it’s not like I’m a typical ‘bridezilla,’ okay?  I fired those people because they kept trying to get me to go big.  That’s like the opposite of bridezilla.  And I didn’t like how that last one was so… handsy.” 

Bellamy laughs, “That’s why you fired her?  Aw Clarke, were you jealous?” 

I roll my eyes, “Jealous is not the word I’d use.  I was irritated.”  He pokes me playfully, but I still feel the need to justify myself.  “She was inappropriate.  And she didn’t seem to like me, so what was the point of involving her in our wedding?” 

He looks down at me with a gentle but serious expression, “I’m not questioning your decisions, Clarke.  Jealousy is a new look on you.” 

I laugh, “No it isn’t.  You’re so full of shit… I get jealous of plenty of things.  I just wasn’t jealous of her.  Jealousy implies that she had something I wanted, when truthfully, it was the other way around.” 

He nods, “Point taken.” 

I give him a grin, “I think the word you’re looking for is _territorial…_ And I will happily admit that I was absolutely being territorial.”  I prop my chin on his chest and look him in the eye, “If a bitch can’t take a hint, I’ll make her back off.”  I get a thrill out of the glimmer in his eyes when I tell him, “You’re mine.  And only mine.”  He smiles and I press a kiss to his chest, “Just like I’m only yours.” 

He pulls me up so my face hovers above his, “Damn right.”  His growling voice sends shivers down my spine as he wraps his hand behind my neck and pulls me down for a deep, all-consuming kiss that literally takes my breath away. 

Three months, and he’ll be my husband. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... that's not the end of Domme Clarke encounters. They'll probably revisit it in the future, but for now they've got other pressing matters at hand (*cough cough*...wedding... Baby making, baby-having, etc).  
> I rewrote this chapter at least 4 times before it was something I like, and i hope you guys enjoyed it.
> 
> As always, COMMENTS and KUDOS are truly appreciated - it makes my day, every time, to get notification in my email. So keep them coming! Please! 
> 
> Also, on my tumblr (MissEMarissa) I've started a little endeavor that people seem to like ~ [Incorrect Quotes from The 100](http://missemarissa.tumblr.com/tagged/incorrect-quotes) ~ I highly encourage checking them out if you have a minute. Humor is how I deal with ALL THIS Pain from this season. :) 
> 
> And last but not least, THANK YOU for reading!


	53. is it out?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I don't want to wait any more, Clarke."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I’ll get right to the chapter and leave the notes for the end. But, I do want to immediately say THANK YOU for all your reviews and the kudos you guys leave. It seriously brightens my day to get those notifications in my inbox, so thank you! [And please keep them coming!]

 

[Clarke POV]

“Bellamy?”  I walk into the house and set grocery bags on the counter. 

His oddly quiet voice comes from the living room, “We’re in here.” 

“We?  Who else is here?”

I walk into the room and see him on the couch with Zoe’s head in his lap.  He holds a finger to his lips, his voice soft, “Shhh, she’s sleeping.”

A broad smile crosses my face.  He scratches behind her ears and a particularly loud snore comes from the dog in his lap.  I have to stifle a laugh at her little personality quirks.  I sit down on the knee that isn’t occupied by the dog, careful not to jostle her awake.  It’s funny how easy it is to think of Zoe as another person in our house.  Maybe that’s partly because _she_ thinks she’s people. 

Bellamy pecks me on my cheek and I turn my face so I can press a soft kiss on the lips. 

I give him a smile, “How has your day been?”

He shrugs, “It’s been good.  I’m researching Ph. D. programs.” 

I give him a huge smile, “That’s exciting.”

He rolls his eyes, a bit self-deprecating, “Yeah, as a whole, it’s exciting.  It’s just kind of daunting to go back to school.”  He’s lost in thought for a moment, “That aside, and I know you’re not pregnant yet, but is it a good idea for me to be back in school when we’ll have a baby on the way?” 

I loop one arm around his neck and tilt his chin to face me with my free hand, “Bellamy.  I am not going to let you deny yourself your Ph.D.  You deserve this.”  He nods, but I can see he’s still debating it in his head.  I cradle his cheek with my palm and he closes his eyes, he leans into my hand with a tenderness and vulnerability that makes my heart ache.  “Bellamy, I’m serious.  We can do both.  You need to finish your doctoral program, and you know it.”  I see the hesitation in his expression, and I brush my thumb along his cheek. “You and I?  We’ve got this.  If you’re worried about us being able to handle an inconvenient pregnancy, I’ll remind you that we’ve been there and done that.” 

A grin forms on his lips, “True.” He sighs with a quirk of his lips, “Okay, how about this…What if I delay the Ph.D program, just for a bit?”  I feel a frown form on my face and he squeezes my arm before I can interrupt.  “Hold on, just hear me out.” 

I nod, “Alright.  I’m listening.”

“I’ve put some thought into the timing besides just logistics or… inconvenience.” 

I tilt my head to the side, “What do you mean?”

He shrugs, “I want to _know_ our child.  I want to spend time with her.”

I’m overcome by a sudden surge of _love_ for this man.  I am so incredibly blessed.  Despite the tears that well up behind my eyes, I know my smile is bright.  Still, he looks concerned. 

“Hey, hey, what’s the matter?” 

I shake my head, “Nothing.  Not a single thing.” 

Bellamy cradles my face with his hand and wipes a tear away from my cheek and I can’t hold back.  I revel in his relieved sigh when I crash forward to capture his lips with mine.  He draws my entire _being_ into a slow, burning kiss.  It’s deep, wordlessly articulating our sheer joy, our devotion to each other.  A smile radiates from my soul and my inability to stifle it breaks the kiss, but he tenderly holds my head in place.  He leans his forehead against mine and I sigh with contentment.    

“It’s going to be a ‘she,’ huh?”

He huffs a quiet laugh, “I don’t know.  That’s just what I keep picturing… a girl.”  His fingers quirk against my scalp, “But for the record, I’m happy with either.” He presses a soft kiss to my lips and beams, “I don’t want to wait any more, Clarke.” 

I shake my head, “Me either.”  I grin and gently draw my head back to get a better look at him. “On that note, I made an appointment to get the IUD removed.”  We’ve been waiting to move on this since we decided that we _want_ to expand our family, but for the past few months, it seemed like one thing or another had been getting in the way.  Now that things calmed down, he’s been hinting (without much subtlety) about removing the IUD. 

His smile becomes _ecstatic_ , “Are you serious?”

“Yeah, I am.”  I sit up straighter.  “The wedding is less than two months away, so we don’t have to be concerned about having to hide a baby bump, because even if we do get pregnant right away, it would be really early in the pregnancy.”  He nods for me to continue, “The only thing that might be inconvenient would be if my cycle aligns and I’m on my period on the day of the wedding.  Or even on our honeymoon.” 

He shrugs, “We can work around that if it happens, if that’s something you’re okay with.”  

I smile, “Okay.  I just wanted to put it out there.”  

“So, when is the appointment?” 

“Friday.”

Bellamy grins, “ _This_ Friday?”

 “Yes.  Tomorrow…”  I nod, worrying my lower lip between my teeth.  “Before it comes out, I want to talk about a few things.  Because we’re going to make a _person_ , Bell.  I know we’ve talked about big things, like schools and stuff as she gets older, but I want to make sure we’re on the same page for some other things I’ve thought of lately.” 

He nods, “What’s on your mind?” 

I tilt my head, “Well.  For one thing, I’ve been doing research on pregnancy and our lifestyle.” 

He shrugs, “We can quit if we have to.”  He just blurts it out, like it’s no big deal to completely leave it behind.   

I think about that for a second, “You want kids that bad?  You’d just… quit?” 

He furrows his brow and searches my eyes, “Clarke, there doesn’t even have to _be_ a reason.  If it becomes something you don’t want to do anymore, then we stop.  I don’t need it.  I need you.”  I’m taken aback by the gentleness in his expression.  Bellamy has always been a kind person at his core, but the overt tenderness is more prominent than it’s ever been.  Since we’ve been engaged, he’s been more… gentle.  Not that I’m complaining.  I’ve found I enjoy the sweeter quality of his dirty talk when it has made its way into the bedroom. 

“I don’t want to quit.” 

He grows concerned as a frown begins to take shape on my face, “Hey, what’s wrong?” 

I shrug, “I just… I never thought about it before.  Quitting.  It’s been such a huge part of your life, Bellamy… And I know I’m newer to it, but it’s a big part of my life, too.  So, I know what a big deal it would be to stop.  At least for me.” 

His lips quirk up in a small smile, and he presses a kiss to my temple, “My point was, _you_ are more important than the sex we have.  If you wanted to quit, I wouldn’t think twice about leaving it behind for you.”  Affection blooms inside of me and I curl into the comfort his chest.  I accidentally bump Zoe, who releases an annoyed, drawn-out groan.  I chuckle and stroke her big head to placate her while I lean into Bellamy.

I tell him, “I appreciate that.  And it’s the same for me.  You’re more important than the kink.  If this ever became something that wasn’t positive for us… If we needed to, I would stop in a heartbeat.  Okay?”

He smiles, “Okay.”

I turn my head up to face him, “What I was starting to say was, we don’t have to quit everything.  We’ll just have to make some modifications.”

“Okay.  Like what?” 

I tilt my head to the side, “Well, impact play near my abdomen is off-limits.  As are any activities that could result in abdominal trauma.”

He swallows with a frown, “Well yeah, obviously.” 

“The biggest issue is that trauma to the abdomen could cause placental abruption.”

He raises an eyebrow, “Ab-what now?”

“It’s when the placenta detaches from the uterus during pregnancy, and depending on how _much_ it detaches, it could result in fetal demise.”  I wince at my overly professional tone.  Bellamy looks about a breath away from passing out.  I find his hand with mine and squeeze it firmly, “Shit…  I’m sorry.  I should have worded that… differently.”  His face does not look any less panicked.  I stroke his arm with my free hand as I tell him, “Hey, breathe.  We’re not going to let it happen okay?  I just want us both to be aware of the risks we’d be taking.”  I definitely should’ve been a bit less graphic, since I’m referring to _our_ hypothetical child.  It’s traumatic enough to hear it in the context of someone else’s condition.  It’s a whole other level of stressful to consider it on a personal level. 

He clears his throat and relaxes, letting his tension leave his body.  “Okay, so nothing anywhere near your stomach.”

I chuckle, “No _impact play_ near the stomach.  There are still _plenty_ of things you can do there.” 

Bellamy’s grin is mischievous “Is that right?”  I feel him squeeze my side and his large fingers quickly dance across my abdomen before I can stop them.  I squirm with a shriek, which annoys Zoe enough to elicit another groan.  We freeze our movements with a grin while we wait for Zoe to settle back to sleep.  I’m not a fan of tickling, and he knows not to push it.  But, ever since we decided to move forward with the baby, he has been hyper-focused on my belly.  It’s almost as if he feels the need to be on contact with it at all times.  I’m not even sure he’s aware he’s doing it, honestly. 

Bellamy breaks the comfortable silence, “Okay.  What other things need to change?” 

“Well, pregnant women are at an increased risk for DVT’s.” 

He gives me that look that says I’m being too medical.  I explain, “Deep-Vein Thrombosis – you know, blood clots that form in the legs, where blood flow can slow down.  So, we should probably put a shorter limit on predicament bondage time.”

He nods, “Yeah – holding still in one position for a long time might not be a great idea.”

“No, it wouldn’t be.  Not to mention, as my body changes, my center of gravity will be off, so it’ll be harder to balance into some of the things you put me through now.” 

He frowns and shakes his head, “Let’s just not do any.  It could be tempting fate, you know?” I see panic swimming in his eyes, “What if you fall over or something during a challenge, and then hurt yourself or the baby?”   

I place a calming hand on his bicep, “ _Or_ we can make changes as they become necessary.  I only mentioned it because it’s just something I want us to keep in mind.”

He can’t mask the worry on his face, “Yeah.  Alright.”

“We’ll also have to make changes to our impact play in general.  For example, some of the instruments we normally use are going to be off limits.  Like whipping me with the flogger.”

He nods, “I don’t disagree.”

“It’s because the noise that comes from the loose ends is uniquely loud and _echo-y_ through the body.  It travels and vibrates through the amniotic fluid and the baby can like, feel it.” 

Bellamy’s face is a unique shade of horrified. 

I squeeze my hand around his.   “We can still _use_ the flogger, like when you drag it along me lightly when we’re doing sensation play and stuff.”  I shiver at the reminder of the way the strands trail slowly and heavily along my skin.  “I love when you do that, so please don’t stop.” 

He smiles and presses a kiss to my shoulder, “Understood.

“Also, we’ll need to augment certain elements of rope bondage, and be especially careful with placement and positioning.  Cutting off circulation is even more problematic because of increased blood volume and differences in blood flow.”  I pause a moment, “I mean, I know you already _are_ really careful and vigilant.  It’s just… there will be more than just _me_ at stake here, you know?” 

His hand flinches on my hip.  “Yeah.  I know what you mean.” 

I nudge him gently with my elbow, “I’m not trying to scare you, okay?”

He nods, “I know.” 

“A lot of things will change when I’m pregnant.  I just don’t want it to be a surprise.  That’s all.” 

He gives me a lopsided smile, “I hear you.” 

I nudge him with my shoulder, “And, I may not be exactly… pleasant when I’m pregnant.”

He squeezes me a little closer, “Have you forgotten I was there the first time around?”

I chuckle, “No, I haven’t forgotten.  I’m reminding myself as much as I’m reminding you.”  My eyes meet his soft gaze, “Also, not every pregnancy is the same.  I had nearly _zero_ pregnancy symptoms with Alex.  But with this one, I might have every ailment in the book.  So… yeah.”  I rest against his chest some more, “There’s another thing that I _really_ need us to be on the same page for.” 

His thumbs rub soft circles on my hips and his voice is gentle, “I’m listening.” 

I take a deep breath, “It’s about the birth.  Like, our birth plan.” 

“The birth plan, already?”

I roll my eyes playfully, “Yes, already.  There are some things about this pregnancy and birth that I want done… differently from last time.” 

“Fair enough.  Such as?”

I blow out a chest full of air, “Unless it is absolutely necessary, I don’t want to give birth in a hospital.” He appears to be thinking it over, so I pause a moment before I continue, “I know that doesn’t seem to make sense, because I’m an OB, and I’m always _in_ the hospital, but…”

He shakes his head, “No, actually.  It makes perfect sense.  The hospital is not necessarily a peaceful place for you.”

I nod thoughtfully, “That’s actually a really accurate observation.”

He shrugs, “I remember, you wanted a natural birth with Alex, but circumstances called for something different.  We had to be flexible.”  I feel my chest squeeze a little when he says _we_ , because he truly was my partner for that birth, even if it wasn’t his baby I was carrying. 

“And that’s something we both have to be, regardless: Flexible.  I know that.  But, _ideally_ , I want to have our baby at home.  And I want a midwife, not a surgeon in attendance.  Again, nothing against my own profession, but I want as few interventions as possible.”

He kisses my forehead, “Okay.  If that’s what you want, that’s what we’ll do.” 

I smile, “And again, if things don’t work out that way, then they don’t work out.  I’m not going to put my child’s life, or my own life at risk.  But I also want this to be a peaceful experience, which… Last time it wasn’t.”  I think about Bellamy’s earlier words.  “And you have a really good point about the hospital not being a peaceful place for me.  That’s really true.”  I crack a fond smile, “It’s exciting, and I love what I do there, but...”  

He nods, “I wasn’t trying to imply that you hate it or anything.”

I laugh, “No, I know.  I just… it’s where I work.  Again, I love my job, and I take a lot of pride in what I accomplish there.”  I shrug and lean my head against Bellamy, “It sounds stupid, but I don’t want to bring my child into the world at my workplace.” 

He kisses my temple softly, “It doesn’t sound stupid, Clarke.”  

I smile, “Thank you.”

“So, once the IUD is out, how long until you can get pregnant?”

I smirk, “Eager much?”

He nods, “Fuck, yes.” 

“You really want to put your baby in me, don’t you?” 

My body shivers when he scrapes his teeth against my neck then drops his graveled voice an octave, “You’re goddamn right I do.”  I feel him smile against my skin, completely aware of his effect on me.  My heart falls into an excited rhythm when I think of my form growing heavy with his child – no, _our_ child.  He chuckles again, “You didn’t give me an answer.” 

I pull back to look at him, “An answer to what?”

“How long?” 

I huff an amused laugh, “Oh.  That.  An IUD the most easily reversible form of birth control.  Pregnancy can occur within one ovulation cycle.” 

He grins, ear to ear.  “So… soon?”

I nod, “If we’re lucky.” 

“So, we should just have a ton of sex.  You know, to practice.”

I laugh, “Obviously.  Because we totally need practice.” 

Goosebumps erupt over my whole body when he whispers against my ear, “We should get started on that.”

 

* * *

 

Friday comes, and I finally get the IUD removed by Anya, a colleague who will be my midwife once I’m actually pregnant.  The removal itself goes smoothly, and I’m more than pleased there isn’t any bleeding or cramping afterward.  Anya gives me the post-removal instructions with a knowing smirk. 

“I know you’re aware of all this, but just for my peace of mind, I’m still giving you the spiel.”

I laugh, “Go for it.”

“You told me that you guys are aiming to conceive as soon as possible.  The good news is, you’re free to start trying immediately.  Even tonight if you want, assuming you’re physically comfortable.” 

I nod with a grin, “As long as I’m not feeling cramps or uterine pain, I don’t think there will be much delay.” I pause a moment before I continue.  “About our sex life, I just want to put this out there right away.”

She raises an eyebrow, “Okay, what’s that?”

“Bellamy and I practice a somewhat… unconventional lifestyle.” 

She nods, “Can you be a little more specific?”

“Um… kink-heavy?” 

“Okay.  Does this include things that are dangerous for the pregnancy?”  

“We’ll be making a lot of changes to our activities as my body changes, to limit the risk.  I just want you to be aware.  We like rough sex, and more often than not, I find bruises on myself after our activities.  So, if you see them, I just don’t want you to be… upset?”

“I understand.  In the interest of full disclosure, I will probably still ask you about any that I see.  Keeping women safe is part of my core philosophy.”

I nod, “I know, and I get that.  Could you just… not judge Bellamy for it?” 

She laughs, “Of course.  For my own peace of mind, I’ll just want to know that any marks that I see were…”

“Consensual?”

She nods, both amused and intrigued.  “Yes.  Consensual is the right word.”

“Consent is big for us.  But if you need to ask, I understand that.”

She gives me a reassuring smile, “I’m not judging.  I’m glad you told me.  It’s intriguing.  Maybe you can educate me as things go on, because people in the world are into all kinds of things.  Open my mind or something.  It’ll be nice to talk about it to someone with a health background who actually takes part in those things.” 

“I’d be happy to tell you more.”

“You’re on prenatals already?” 

“Of course.”  I recommend prenatal vitamins to every woman of childbearing age, regardless of pregnancy status.  I, personally, want my body as prepared as possible.  I’ve also been taking steps to de-stress lately, by going to yoga more often, and practicing meditation regularly.  The most effective stress relief for me, though, is submission to Bellamy.  Letting go and putting control into his hands is an unparalleled source of respite for my soul.  I’m jarred out of my thoughts again by Anya’s business-like tone.

“I’m glad to hear it.  Well, hopefully I’ll be seeing you back in here sooner than later.” 

A smile stretches across my face, “Hopefully.” 

I take a moment to let this settle in.  Up until now, our talk of babies and family expansion has been just that: talk.  We’re more than ready for this, and we finally get to make it happen. 

* * *

 

Once I get home, I don’t make it more than a few feet past the door before I’m accosted by a ravenous and excited Bellamy.  He traps me against the wall and cages me between his strong arms.  I manage an _“Oh!”_ before he slants his mouth over mine.  His kiss is deep and demanding, and I return it with enthusiasm, as if we’ve been starved of each other. When we finally come up for air, a broad smile stretches across his face. 

I brush my thumbs over his cheeks, while I try to steady my voice, trembling with excitement.  “Hi, there.” 

He shakes his head, dropping it forward, and laughs against my temple, “Yeah, okay, ‘Hi’ works.”  I push his face away gently so I can sweep my gaze across his features and I can’t fight the smile that radiates from my core. 

Bellamy searches my eyes carefully, “So…?” 

I echo his words with a grin, “So…?”

“Is it out?” 

I laugh, “Yes.  It’s out.” 

“So you’re, like, ready?  Can you have sex yet?” 

I nod, “Yes.  As soon as we want.”  I hook a toe under the hem of his pant leg and give him a sultry grin as I drag it slowly up his calf. 

“In fact, _right now_ works just fine for me…” 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to Amber (@bilexualclarke) for beta-ing this so quickly! I’m so glad I caught you on a weekend off!  
> Also, thank you to Kayla(@raincityruckus) for being my sounding board these last few months while I figure out where I’m going with this fic. 
> 
> No smut this time, but that will be rectified next chapter. At the moment, I’m channeling my porn energy into my pornstar character, so I hope to have an update ready soon for “I’ll Give you All Kinds of New Material.” After getting so many bellarke feels in recent episodes, I’ve been significantly more motivated to write these guys.  
> Thank you so much for sticking with this during the long breaks between chapters – it is super helpful to get reviews from these chapters, because it lets me know you guys are still with me and reading! I appreciate all your comments on the Domme!Clarke chapter, and I’m really glad it was so well-received.
> 
> Also, I'm on tumblr @missemarissa for those of you who wish to join me in being bellarke trash… 
> 
> COMMENTS and KUDOS are basically the dream for me. So if you’re enjoying this, please do that! 
> 
> And of course, THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING!


	54. not the same

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke's entire body freezes. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath before opening them again. I look up at Bree, who is blissfully ignorant of the the hell Clarke is ready to unleash upon her. Clarke stands, calm and collected. Only the clenched muscle of her jaw belies her composure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look :) A new chapter! Without a multi-month break :) 
> 
> Thank you all so much for your support! I'll be replying to comments after I post this ~ The reviews have been so motivating, and I'm so grateful for them. So PLEASE, keep them coming! (KUDOS, too!) 
> 
> This chapter was meant to be shameless PWP, but somehow a bunch of feels, a little angst, and some good ol' plot development snuck in there, too. Not sorry. (But don't worry, there's still a large helping of smut). 
> 
> ****Trigger Warning:****  
>  Some aftermath of kid-on-kid violence (8 yr olds)  
> Public sex kink 
> 
> Thank you to [Amber](http://bilexualclarke.tumblr.com) for being a lovely beta! And shoutout to [Maggie](http://bellohmyblake.tumblr.com) for the daily writing encouragement and smutty inspiration :)

[Bellamy POV]

I'm finishing up an email to my boss when my cell phone rings. It's Alex's school, so I pick it up immediately.

"Hello?"

A woman speaks, "Hello, is Bellamy Blake available?"

"You're speaking to him."

"Hello Mr. Blake. This is Mel, in the clinic, and I'm here with Alexandra.

"The clinic? Is she okay?"

"Alexandra was involved in a scuffle at recess today, and she's sustained a minor injury." The nurse's voice is calming, but my head is already reeling with panic. 

"What do you mean a _minor injury?"_  

She takes a deep breath and answers, "Well, it looks like she's going to have some bruising on her face, as well as some scrapes. Also some lacerations on her knees and elbows." I swallow down the bile that rises from my stomach as she continues, "I'm sorry to bother you,  but we couldn't get hold of Clarke or Nate, and you're the next emergency contact."

"No, that's fine.  Clarke is probably in surgery, and Nate is out of town this week." I start packing up to leave work early.

She asks, "Do you think you could come to the school? It would probably be best for Alex to take the rest of the day off." 

"I'm already on my way. Can you put her on the phone?"

"Certainly."  I hear muffled voices on the other end of the line, followed by Alex.

"Hi, Bellamy." My heart lurches at the thick sound of swallowed tears.

"Alex, are you okay?"

"I'm okay now."  She sniffs, "I just wanna go home."

"Yeah, kiddo. I'm on my way there right now, okay?"

"Okay." I hear her breaking down in tears again, and I feel completely helpless to do anything about it.

"Just hang in there. I'll be there soon. I'm going to keep trying to get hold of your mom, too. Hopefully she'll be able to meet us there."

Another sniff, "Thank you."

"I'll see you soon, okay?"

"Okay."

The nurse comes back on the line, "Mr. Blake?"

"Yeah, I'm on my way. I'll be there in about twenty, maybe thirty minutes max."

"We'll see you, then."

I hang up and blow out a chest full of air.  I call Clarke on my way to the car and leave a message for her to call me as soon as she can. Traffic isn't awful between the museum and Alex's school, but every minute stopped at a light seems to stretch to eternity while my head reels with unanswered questions. Chiefly, _What the hell did she get into a fight over?_

I'm on the freeway, almost to the school, when my phone rings. I look down and see an image of Clarke flipping off the camera… normally her contact picture would put a smile on my face, but I'm too on-edge right now. I swipe my thumb across the screen to answer it.

"Clarke?"

"Bellamy, what's going on?"

"It's Alex. She got hurt at school, and they need someone to come get her. I'm pulling off at the exit now."

I can practically feel the panic in her sharp exhale, "Oh, no. I'll meet you there. Did they say what happened?"

"Something about getting in a fight, I think." I pull up to another light and flip my turn signal on, "They didn't say a lot, just that she has some bruises and cuts."

I hear the elevator ding on her end, "I'm heading to the car now. I'll see you soon."

Before she hangs up, she cuts in, “Bell?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you. For being there.”

“I always will be, Clarke. I'll see you soon.”

 

When I get into the school, I'm quickly directed to the clinic, where Alex is curled up in a ball, facing the window, on the cot farthest from the door. I make my way over to the bed and crouch down.

I keep my voice gentle, "Alex?"

Her little body jolts with fright before she turns around to face me, holding a small ice pack to her face.

Her little sigh is laced with relief, "Bellamy."

I take a seat on the cot and pull her into my lap, mindful of the various scrapes on her arms and legs. "Yeah, I'm here. I got hold of your mom. She'll be here in a few minutes." Alex nods quietly and relaxes against me. "You wanna tell me what happened?"

She shrugs, "Can we wait until mom gets here?"

I nod, "Of course. Just rest, okay?"

She curls into my chest with a nod and closes her eyes. The school nurse comes over to replace Alex's ice pack and I can see the bright red edges of what will soon be nasty bruise over her left cheekbone. Cuts and deep scrapes cover the left side of her face. None of them seem deep enough to need stitches or cause permanent scarring, but they're going to take several weeks to heal.  I inspect further and find scrapes lining the palms of her hands, her forearms, and a particularly rough abrasion to her left elbow. My blood _boils_ at the realization that this girl was pushed from behind, with significant force.

Before I can get too worked up, Clarke arrives to the clinic, her commanding presence masking her internal panic. She sets eyes on us and crosses the room in a few strides, then quietly crouches down in front of us. Her brows knit with concern, she carefully extends her daughter's limbs to get a view of the injuries. Alex's eyes shoot open with alarm, but soften when she sees her mom.

Clarke smiles gently, but I know her tender touches conceal the fury burning in her veins at whoever put her daughter here.  Alex starts to sit up, but Clarke stops her.

Her voice is quiet, "Hey, baby girl. Just stay in Bellamy's arms for a bit while I check you over, okay?" Alex nods and settles against me, limp and tired.  Clarke cups her hand around the non-injured side of Alex's face, "I'm just going to move this for a second, okay?" Alex gives a small nod and Clarke carefully moves the ice pack out of the way so she can see underneath it. Alex hisses sharply at the movement. Underneath Clarke’s gentle and soothing smile, I see the gears turning in her mind, the storm brewing beneath the surface. She replaces the pack and stands up to address Bree, the clinic aide.

"Can you tell me if she's been given any ibuprofen or acetaminophen?"

The nurse, occupied by another student, answers from across the room, "I’m sorry, but she hasn't had either of those because she doesn't have a supply here."

Clarke nods and fishes through her bag, “That’s fine. Can we get some water over here? I have something I can give her." Bree comes back with a glass and Clarke crouches down again so she's eye-level with Alex. She hands her a pill and the glass of water, and Alex swallows both down quickly before she rests on my chest again. Clarke lays her hand on Alex’s thigh, "Can you tell me what happened?"

Alex shrugs and tucks her chin to her chest, "A boy pushed me."

Bree makes a sympathetic noise, "Aww how cute. It looks like someone has a little crush on you."

Clarke's entire body freezes. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath before opening them again. I look up at Bree, who is blissfully ignorant of the the hell Clarke is ready to unleash upon her. Clarke stands, calm and collected. Only the clenched muscle of her jaw belies her composure. She turns around to face the aide.

Clarke’s voice is chillingly calm, "Please tell me I did not just hear you tell my eight-year old daughter that it was _'cute'_ that a boy physically harmed her, that he even _touched_ her without her consent." Bree’s mouth drops open as Clarke steps closer, "Did you _seriously_ just say that?"

Bree stands up straighter, "I didn't mean it like that, it's just a thing they say, you know, because it’s cute when boys don't know how to tell girls they like them."

Clarke casts a withering glare, “Right. Ten years from now, is it going to be _'cute'_ when that boy beats the shit out of a girl because he doesn't know how to appropriately express his feelings?" Bree is silent so Clarke continues, "Are you telling my daughter," She points over at a student on a cot, "And that little boy, and everyone else here, that violence against women is _‘cute?’"_ Clarke doesn't once raise the volume of her voice, but her cutting tone leaves no room for interpretation: She is _furious_.

Bree shakes her head, "No. You're right." She stares at the corner of the room with a stunned expression, “I hadn't thought of it that way before."

Clarke pinches the bridge of her nose, “Please, think about the message you're sending with your words." She turns back to Alex and kneels back down in front of us. Her voice is gentle again, "A boy pushed you?"

Alex blinks back tears, "It was Cole."

Clarke frowns, "Your _friend_ , Cole?"

Alex nods, "Dee and Matthew were teasing him, that he liked me, singing  _'Cole and Alex sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G'_ and he kept saying no he didn't, and I said no I didn't-” her voice hiccups as she narrates, “-and we were both trying to make them stop, but then _everyone_ started saying it and they were all being too loud and wouldn't listen, so I ran away because I was crying and-"

Alex's chest heaves as she gulps for air, her face wet with tears. My hand rubs steady circles on her back, "Shh, slow down, it's okay."

After a few slow breaths, Alex calms down and gives herself a moment to think. Her trembling hand fists itself into my shirt and she uses it to wipe her tears away while Clarke places a soothing hand on her shoulder.

After a few moments, she continues, "Then, I heard Cole yell that he didn't like me at all, and I could hear his voice was getting closer, and I thought maybe he was following me to help me because I was crying, so I slowed down to wait for him…” She wipes her tears away with the back of her mangled hand **.** “The next thing I knew, my face was on the sidewalk and my arms and hands were bleeding." Her body trembles, "I didn't even know it was _Cole_ who hurt me until someone told me." Her cries become heavy, my ears ring with her distraught words, “ _He hurt me… my friend hurt me... “_ My stomach churns as I listen to her betrayed sobs.

Clarke wipes tears away from her own eyes, "I'm so, so, sorry, baby girl." Alex reaches for her mom and I help move her to Clarke’s arms. Clarke holds her daughter in a fierce embrace, like Alex might disappear if she were to let go. It isn’t until Alex is out of my lap that I realize I’m _shaking_ with anger **.**

“You call that a _‘Scuffle_?’” I ask, “Where were the teachers? Why the hell was this able to even _happen?_ ”

The nurse comes over to talk with us, “I don’t know all the details, but it is my understanding that the Principal would like to discuss with you what happened.

 

We’re told that Cole is to be suspended for two days. I bristle at the news, ready to demand that the kid be expelled, but Clarke stops me.

She explains later, after we’ve put Alex to bed, “This incident is rooted in more than just one child, Bellamy. Cole’s parents are good people. I’m going to talk with them about what happened. Alex and Cole have close been friends for three years.” A fact which makes this incident, this _betrayal,_ all the more traumatic for Alex. This boy, this friend she trusted, caused her severe bodily harm at a moment when she thought he was going to comfort her…

Her vulnerability was answered with violence... How devastating for a little girl who has always loved so freely, trusted so easily.

Clarke leans against me, “I hate this, so goddamn much. He has always been a sweet kid with a good heart.” She shakes her head, stares fixedly at her clenched hands. “But he fucked up so bad.” She blinks back tears, “He hurt my daughter, and my heart is _broken_ for her…" I pull her into me while she cries openly, "I know I’m supposed to instill lessons about forgiveness, but how am I supposed to apply that here?” Her body shudders, “I don’t expect Alex to forgive him and I _won't_ ask her to.” I hold her close, murmuring soft comforts in her ear.

She sighs tiredly, wipes the tears from her eyes, “I also know that he is an eight-year old boy who panicked while a throng of unsupervised children were teasing him. He made a bad and violent choice that, judging by Alex’s reaction, probably cost him his friendship with her.” Clarke’s frustration is palpable, “I hate that this might damage Alex’s trust in people.”

My thumbs rub absent-minded circles against her skin, “I know. But Clarke, she’s going to get through this. She has so many people who love her, and we’re all going to be there for her right now.”

 

Later that night, we lie in bed, her back cradled to my chest, just resting in the comfort we give each other. After the day's events, neither of us is in the mood to fuck, but we need each other's touch.

I touch my fingertips to the various marks I've left on her with the instruments we use in play. Bruises. Welts. All in varying degrees of healing stages. I trace the outline of a yellowish-green mark, and my fingers flinch as my head draws comparisons to Alex's injuries. My stomach lurches as I think about the bruises, the abrasions, suffered at the hand of her friend.

How the _fuck_ am I any different?

“They're not the same.” Clarke answers before I can even ask.

“How?” my voice cracks.

She turns her face and catches my gaze with a gentle smile. “I ask for mine. I _beg_ for them. Alex didn't… _That_ is what's different. She had no choice.” her soft fingers glide gently over my knuckles. “I've told you before, I love them. They make me feel safe… They remind me how much you _love_ me…”

My lips drag lightly over her skin, tracing the the faded welts left high on her back from the cane. I kiss tenderly each mark I can reach before she turns over to face me. Her fingers rake through my hair and she holds me in her piercing gaze.

“See? You cherish them as much as I do.” She pulls my face to hers and captures my lips with her own, moving them together in a slow, burning kiss. It doesn’t scorch us with passion. It brands our souls together… Slowly. Steadily. Permanently.

I trace my thumb over her cheek, watching her eyes trace the constellation of freckles on my face. “I really fucking love you, Clarke.”

She nods with a soft smile, “I know…” Echoing the first time we said those words to each other. “I really fucking love you, too.” 

 

* * *

 

Alex doesn't return to school.

The incident occurred on the cusp of summer break, with just days to go before school ended. Alex doesn't feel safe there, with good reason. There is little to no academic learning left at this point in the school year. Exams are over, it’s just class parties and end-of-year desk clean outs. Clarke and Nate don’t see the merit in forcing Alex to endure the teasing and pointing at her bruised and lacerated face, especially not at the hands of those who caused it.

On the first day of summer break, Cole and his parents come by with some get-well gifts, to see how Alex is doing. She turns him away. The regret and sorrow in the boy’s eyes are clear, but the pain in Alex’s heart is still vividly evident on her face. Clarke is right. Alex will probably never let him back in.

 

* * *

 

In the weeks after school ends, things are getting back to normal. The scrapes on Alex's skin are mostly healed, the bruising on her face has faded considerably and we are all ready to get back in the swing of things. Alex has been especially excited about the wedding, which is a month away now. She spends a lot of time with Abby while Clarke and I are at work, immersing herself in top-secret “daughter of the bride” projects for Clarke.

 

* * *

 

_[3 weeks post-incident]_

Clarke got called into work this afternoon, leaving Alex and I alone for the evening, so we go out for ice cream. It’s become something of a cherished tradition for us over the months.

Alex sweeps her wild blonde curls away from her mostly-healed face as the evening breeze blows through the patio while we sit and enjoy the sunset.

“So, have you thought about what you’ll name the baby?” Alex casually asks me before taking a bite of the frozen treat.

“Real smooth, Alex.” I’ll give her props for not beating around the bush.

“Let it be noted that you didn't answer my question.” Her sternly raised eyebrow takes me back fifteen years to Clarke, studying me from across the classroom in music theory, demanding answers and unwilling to hear bullshit.

I laugh, “There isn’t a baby yet.”

She sighs with a dramatic groan, “Is there _ever_ going to be one? It's been _forever._ ”

“It hasn’t been ‘ _forever._ ’” I make air quotes as I mimic her theatrics. “And, to be fair, we didn’t actually start _trying_ until very recently. Your mom had to get-” I stumble over my words, “-something… removed.” It dawns on me that I have no idea how to explain the process of birth control to an eight-year old. Or if it’s even something appropriate. I sputter out, “It’s grownup stuff.”

Her face twists like she’s just swallowed a lemon, “Oh my God, I don’t need details.”

I laugh, “You literally _just_ asked for them…”

“Yeah but-” She shakes her head, “Eww.”

I chuckle while spooning another bite of ice cream out of my bowl.

The brilliant colors of the sunset reflect on the pale skin of her face as she gazes out at the mountains.  “You do want one, right?”

“Want one what?”

She shrugs, squinting her eyes at the horizon, “A baby.”

I frown, “What do you mean?”

She takes another bite of her ice cream as she contemplates her words. “Just… If you don’t want to have kids, you don’t have to. I know I bug you guys a lot about getting a brother or sister. But you don’t have to give me one. I’ll stop pestering you.”

I frown, “Why would you think we don’t want a baby?”

She shrugs, “I know I was an accident. There are lots of babies that are born when they aren’t wanted. So I just… I don’t want that to happen to a baby.”

I recoil slightly at her words. Does she actually think she was not wanted?

I tap her leg with my toe, “Alex. Hey, look at me.”  She turns to face me, and the vulnerability in her eyes tugs at my heart. “You were _not_ an unwanted baby.”

“But I wasn't… planned. They didn’t make me on purpose.”

I shrug, “So, what?”

“Well, I wouldn’t have wanted to have a baby if I had been her. Like, still in school and stuff.”

I nod, “I can understand why you think that. But it wasn’t like that.” Her brows are still knit, her lips still pressed in a thin line. I cover her hand with my own, “Alex, you may have been a surprise, but as soon as your mom found out you _existed_ , she wanted you. We _all_ wanted you.” She twists her mouth to the side and nods. I squeeze her hand, “I mean it. There isn’t a _second_ that’s gone by where you weren’t _loved_ and _wanted,_ okay?”

She nods, the line between her brows finally gone, “Okay.”

“And just because we’re ‘planning’ this one, doesn’t mean we love you any less.” I huff “Not to mention, you set the bar pretty high. This kid’ll have a lot to live up to.”

She beams, “Well… we can't all be me.”

I laugh, “Not at all.”

She smiles, “Thanks.”

I nod, “Yeah, kiddo. Anytime.” I spoon a bite of her ice cream and she smacks at my hand.

She glares playfully, “Hands off, mister.”

“You better finish it, then.”

With a smirk, she takes a giant bite. Her mouth is full when she asks, “Happy now?”

I nod, “Very. Now finish up. Tomorrow's the first day of summer season for swim team.”

The excitement in her eyes is something I’m more than happy to see.

 

* * *

 

_[The following day]_

My skin flinches at startling drops of cold water that jar me out of an afternoon nap by the pool. I open one eye and I'm met with a grinning Clarke, dripping wet from a swim. The view of glistening drops of water lining the curves of her body is more than enough to make up for the annoyance of a being so rudely awoken.  Still, she doesn't need to know that.

"Really,  Clarke?"

She shrugs, "Oops... My bad."

I raise an eyebrow, "You're a bad liar."

She flicks more water droplets at me as she pushes her sunglasses onto her nose and grins at my annoyed hiss.

"Sorry, you just looked a little too comfortable there." 

"You're gonna regret that, Princess."

She snorts, "We'll see." 

A groan escapes me at the exaggerated twist of her body as she stretches herself out on her lounge chair.  I rake my gaze over her supple form, the droplets of water already drying under the heat of the afternoon sun. She's wearing one of those one-piece swimsuits with the sides cut out, and it fits her like a glove. It barely contains her tits, and she _knows_ it's driving me fucking crazy.

Alex's swim team is here, practicing in the lap pool. Since the weather is warm, Clarke and I opt to take some leisure time at one of the Adult-only outdoor pools for a few hours while waiting for practice to let out. Clarke has been nothing if not feisty since we've been here.

I close my eyes again and settle back into my own chair to doze off for a while. My siesta is interrupted by the sound of Clarke's frustrated huffs as she digs around in her bag. I grin internally at her victorious "hmph" when she finally finds what she was looking for.  Her shadow is cool over my face and I open my eyes to find her looming over me, curls wild, with an impish grin and a bottle of sunscreen in hand.

She holds the bottle in front of me with a smile, "I need you to put more of this on me."

I sit up and take it out of her hands with a lopsided grin, then pop the lid open while she sits back down on her lounge chair. She stretches her arms above her like a cat luxuriating in the sun’s warmth. I squeeze a portion of it into the palm of my hand.

"Didn't I just put this on you?"

She scoffs, "First of all, it's been two hours. I should have reapplied it half an hour ago. Second, are you really going to pass up an opportunity to grope me in public?"

I laugh,"Not a chance." I mumble teasingly, "White girls and their sunburns..." 

She shoots me a raised eyebrow, "UV damage does not discriminate. You need to be wearing it, too, Bell." 

I roll my eyes with a grin, "Yeah, yeah, I know... I put the spray stuff on already, now get off my back." 

She holds her arm up expectantly, presenting it to me. My hand wraps around her forearm, “You can’t reach your own arms?”

She flicks her wrist and smiles, "I like it better when you do it. Plus, your hands are bigger. More efficient." She looks up at me from under her sunglasses, "Don't be too efficient, though."

My lips curl up in a grin, "I wouldn't dream of it, Princess." I massage the cream into her arms, her shoulders, taking the time to enjoy the feel of her skin against my hands. After I finish her arms, I tap her side, "Sit up, I'll get your back." She moves to my chair and sits down between my parted legs, giving me easy access to her back. I map her curves with my palms, mesmerized by the contrast of color between her skin and my own. As I massage the lotion in, I slide my fingers underneath the edge of her suit, displacing it just far enough to get a glimpse of some of my marks from last night. During the summer months, I'm careful about where I mark her. As much as I enjoy seeing the evidence of our activities on her body, neither of us feels like fielding questions from concerned friends.

My thoughts are interrupted by the wiggle of her hips under my palms. "Bell... You alright there?"

I clear my throat, "I'm good."

"Then get back to it, already..."

I return to my task with an amused chuckle, covering her soft skin with the lotion. My fingers flinch against her skin at the obscene groan that escapes her. 

" _Princess_ ," I growl. 

She shrugs again with an innocent “hmm?” as I slip my finger underneath the low back of her swimsuit. 

"Careful what you start..."  I graze the cleft of her ass cheeks with my fingers and grin at her surprised squeak before moving on to the rest of her body. She is soft under my palms as I smooth them along the exposed skin of her sides, gratuitously slipping my fingers underneath the slip of thin fabric that stretches down her front. She leans back into my chest and I rest my cheek against her temple, her skin soft against mine. The sharp scent of chlorine combines with the distinct aroma of sunscreen, like I’m breathing in _summer._

I sweep my thumbs along the undersides of her breasts, and a grin stretches across my face when her nipples harden underneath the thin fabric of her suit. She lets go a tiny squeal when I pinch the side of her breast and glances around with slight panic.

I chuckle in her ear, "Relax, we're the only ones out here."

Clarke nods and leans back against me with a relieved exhale while my hands roam freely over her torso. The light caresses along the swells of her tits become firmer, more purposeful, until I'm kneading shamelessly at the heavy globes. She startles herself with her own loud groan when I roll her nipples between my fingers. As if she suddenly remembers where we are, she grips my wrists with her hands. 

She hisses, "Bellamy! People could see!" I grin, taking note of the fact that she didn't tell me to stop, nor did she try and pull my hands away.

I nuzzle her neck, "No one can see you." She drops her head back on my shoulder and loosens her grip on my wrists just slightly as I resume my teasing touches. My lips graze the shell of her ear, "Except for maybe those tennis players down there." With a sharp inhale, she jerks her head up to see two couples playing doubles at the courts below us. My hand makes its way down her abdomen and I revel in her full-body shiver when I ask, "If they looked up here right now, what would they see, Princess?" 

She answers with a silent shrug. I deliver a twisting pinch to her nipple and grin at the way her tits bounce with the flinch of her body.

"I asked you a question." 

She whispers, "They would see _me_ , Sir."  

"Fuck, yeah they would." My fingers slip beneath the front of her suit and tease her mound for just a moment before I pull them back out. I smile against her skin when she chases my touch with a thrust of her hips. My hand slips between her thighs and a low growl escapes me at the sizeable wet spot where her arousal seeps through the fabric. I pull my hand away and she tightens her grip on my wrist again. My head goes hazy as she guides my hand back down and spreads her legs wider in an unmistakable invitation.

"Tell me what you want, Princess."

She breathes **,** “You _know_ what I want."

I chuckle, "I want to hear you say it." She squirms while I tease the edge of her swimsuit again. "Come on, Princess... Tell me."

"I want you to fuck me with your fingers, Sir." The needy quality of her raspy voice makes my head fucking _spin_...

I nod my head toward the tennis courts, "What if they see you?"

"Maybe they will, Sir." She says with a shrug.

I scrub a hand over my face, "Fuck, you _want_ them to see you?"

She whimpers something unintelligible as she pulls my hand back from my face and guides it to her tits. She slowly rocks her hips forward so my fingers slip underneath the edge of her bathing suit.

I huff in disbelief, "Holy shit, you _do_.”

She whines, _"Please_..."

"Alright, Princess..." I slip my fingers between her folds and bite back a moan at the slickness I find there. "You're _dripping_..." I sink a finger into her, grinning at the sopping sound of her displaced arousal. "Do you _hear_ how fucking wet you are?"

She nods again, "I hear it, Sir."

I laugh, low, "This is all because someone might see you getting fucked?"

Her answering whimper is downright intoxicating. I keep talking while I sink another finger into her, crooking them against her front walls. "If one of them was to look up here, what would you do?”

"I... I don't know."

I press my thumb to her clit and she lets go a sharp cry. Alarmed, she releases one of my wrists to cover her own mouth.

I chuckle, "Uh oh, Princess... That was loud." 

Clarke squeezes her eyes shut, afraid to find out whose attention she's attracted. I pull her hand away from her mouth and replace it with my own. She arches her body as I hold her head tight against my shoulder with my palm over her mouth. Her hands are free, she can snap her fingers if she wants to call this. But I know she's not going to. She's fucking _into_ it. Her fingers find their way to her tits to knead and tweak her pebbled nipples.

I whisper low in her ear, "You've got their attention, Princess... What are you gonna do about it?" She thrusts her hips forward again and grinds against my hand. "You gonna get yourself off for them?  Give them a show?"

Her nostrils flare as her breaths become ragged. She nods, moans, " _Mmmhmm_ " from behind my palm as I relentlessly work her over with my other hand. It's not long before I feel the walls her cunt flutter around my fingers.

"You're close aren't you?” I huff, pleased by her full-body shiver as she nods frantically, “Yeah, you are... I can feel it."

I pull my hand away from her mouth and she gulps desperately for air. Just before she goes over the edge, I pull my hand away from her cunt, ceasing any and all stimulation. I let my arms fall away, grinning at her confused and highly aroused state.

After a few seconds, her eyes shoot open,blazing with fury as she turns her gaze on me, "What the _fuck?_ "

"I told you you'd regret it." I rake my gaze up and down her flushed body while I suck my fingers clean. I give her a casual shrug as I lean back against my chair, folding my hands behind my head with a smug grin.

Clarke turns away from me with an indignant huff in a laughable attempt to appear unaffected. She eyes the tennis players below us, who, of course, have been playing without interruption. Had she _actually_ caught anyone’s attention, I would have shut that shit down immediately. Clarke knows it. I know it. She trusts me not to truly expose her to a stranger.

Taking advantage of her distracted state, I sweep my arms underneath her as I stand and pick her up bridal style.  Her eyes widen as she quickly catches on to my intentions. I laugh at her attempts to squirm out of my grip as I walk to the edge of the pool. Realizing her escape efforts are futile, she snakes her arms around my neck and squeezes herself tightly against me.  If she's going down, she's going to make sure to take me down with her.  I bend my knees in a ready-to-jump stance.

She protests, "Bellamy, no, I just dried off, don't-"

I interrupt with a laugh,"Sweetheart, I think we both know that you're far from _dry_ right now."

She shakes her head, "No, no, no, no, don't you fucking dare, you son of a-"

Her speech is cut off with a shriek when I jump into the pool, submerging us both in the water. The pool may technically be heated, but it's still a bit of a shock after spending the afternoon baking in the summer sun. I loosen my hold on her and immediately feel the warmth of her thighs around my waist as she twists her body and wraps her legs around me. She pulls my face down, crushing her lips to mine in a fierce kiss. The temperature of the water is all but forgotten as her touch sparks the blood rushing through my veins. I hiss at the jolt of pleasure that shoots through me at the exaggerated roll of her hips when she grinds her heated core against my cock. With a bruising grip on her fleshy thighs, I hold her still while I attempt to regain composure, but it appears that _composure_ is not her desired outcome.

I walk us to the corner of the pool, just near the waterfall structure. The steady, deafening sound of rushing water matches my unwavering, rousing, tormenting _need_ for Clarke, whose body writhes against mine in search of release only I can give her.

I break away, nearly breathless, "You need something Princess?"

She nods, " _Please_... I need you inside me." Her voice lurches when I pin her body to the wall with my own. My muscles leap under her fingers as she digs them into my sides.

"You want me to fuck you?” I ask against her lips as I thumb the crotch of her swimsuit to the side and part her warm folds with my fingers. “Right here? Right now?” My mind reels when my fingers meet her slick arousal as it seeps out of her.

Her voice trembles, _"Please."_ She whimpers breathlessly at the soft trail of my lips along her jawline, her forehead, her cheeks, as my fingers continue to work her over from the inside. I pull my head away to get a good look at her and I can't fight my satisfied grin when I see the desperate state I put her in.

I peck a quick kiss to her lips, "Alright, Princess.. I got you." Her answering moan is loud and lusty and rings in my ears. However, the unchecked volume of her cries presents a problem. I grip her chin between my fingers, "Hey, now... I can't have you drawing attention over here while I’m fucking you." My hand slides up to cup her jaw, "You don’t wanna get us in trouble, do you." She shakes her head quickly as she wraps her arms around my neck. I line myself up to her entrance, "So you’ve gotta be _real quiet_ for me. You understand?"

She nods with a strained whimper, "Okay." 

I growl, "Wanna try that again, Princess?"

"I'm sorry... _Yes, Sir."_

I whisper in her ear, "That's a good girl." 

With my hands gripping the flesh of her hips, I pull her whole body down on my cock as I thrust up into her. I revel in the choked noise that escapes her throat as I sheath myself fully inside her **.** With a breathy cry, she tightens her legs and crushes herself against me. My fingers dig into her hips, controlling her every movement with my possessive grasp. Her shuddering gasp rings in my ears as I pin her to the wall and grind into her, angling her hips so my cock drags, hot and harsh **,** against the very best parts of her. A victorious grin graces her features at my untamed growl when she clenches herself around me. 

I rasp against her neck, "Fuck, that's it... That's good... Keep doing that, baby." I brush my lips softly against hers, the tender act a startling and dizzying contrast to our fervid pursuit of pleasure under the water. Soon, the walls of her cunt quiver around my cock as she careens toward climax. 

I grip her chin to face me and shake my head, "Nuh-uh, You know better, Princess... You can't come yet."

With knit brows, she whimpers, "I know..."

I swallow her pleasured agony with a deep, demanding kiss as I increase my efforts. She breaks away with a gasp when I change the angle of penetration just slightly.

"Fuck!" She cries out, her voice alarmingly loud. I still our movements and quickly cover her mouth with my hand, wincing at the wet slapping sound of my palm against her face. I'm momentarily distracted and highly intrigued by the lustful groan she gives in response.

"Shh..."  I glance around to make sure that we're still the only ones out here. I look back at her now-open eyes, "If I move my hand, can you be quiet?"

She nods and I uncover her mouth.  She whispers, "I'll be quiet, Sir... I'll be good for you."

A growl rumbles in my chest as I capture her lips with my own in a bruising kiss. I pick up the pace again, grinding inside of her, a burning pleasure coiling at the base of my spine. I wipe her hair away from her drenched forehead and tangle my fingers into her saturated locks. Her eyes slam shut and she moans into my mouth with each tug at her scalp… I can _feel_ her desperation in my veins.

My rhythm starts to falter as own climax draws near, and as much as I'd like to draw this out, we could be interrupted at any moment. I stretch my other hand, smooth it along her front, drawing from her a ragged gasp when my thumb trips over her aching clit. A searing pain radiates from my shoulders where her nails dig painfully into the skin, wordless affirmation that I'm giving her just what she needs.

I press tight circles against the throbbing bundle of nerves and whisper against her lips, "You've been so good, baby... Come for me... Let me feel you come on my cock."

Her face is a stunning picture of ecstasy as her back arches against me, her whole body tense with rapture. Jolts of pleasure surge through me with each quake of her body as she succumbs to orgasm, her pulsating walls drawing me right over the edge with her. My mind goes numb as we collapse into each other, lost to a world of shared bliss. As I come back around, my head rests on her shoulder and I brush my lips over her bounding pulse while the rushing sound of the waterfall beats in our ears.

I'm jarred out of our post-coital bliss by the clearing of a throat. Clarke's entire body tenses and she looks up at me, eyes wide and swimming with panic. Before I have a chance to look up and see who it is, I hear a familiar chuckle.

"Why am I not surprised?"

Clarke whips her head around to get a glimpse of our voyeur.

"Magnus?" The tension in her muscles dissipates, but the bright flush over her skin deepens. 

He smirks and gives us each a nod in greeting, "Clarke. Bellamy." He drops his towel on a lounge chair next to ours, then toes out of his flip flops. "It's always nice to see the two of you."

I nod back with a chuckle while I slip out of Clarke, amused by her barely-noticeable gasp at the sensation. She turns around to face him, perching her forearms on the edge of the pool while I resituate myself and fix her bathing suit. She points over at the sunglasses that rest on the end of her chair, so he picks them up and hands them to her. Even I have to admire the insane muscle definition on the man when he sheds his robe and stretches his body.

Clarke clears her throat as she pushes her sunglasses up on her nose, "I haven't seen you here before."

He sits down on the end of his seat, "I was going to say the same thing."

Clarke gestures toward the main building, "My daughter has swim team this afternoon. You?”

Mag leans forward, knees resting on his elbows, "Same. My son's hockey team is using the ice rink."

Just then, a woman saunters our direction, a sneer plastered on her otherwise attractive features. She takes a seat on one of the plush cabana chairs, crosses one leg over the other.

Magnus greets her with a nod, "Ontari."

She tilts her head with a snarl, "Roan."

Clarke turns around to face me with a raised eyebrow and mouths _"Roan?"_  I shrug my shoulders as she turns back around to face them. Ever the diffuser of tense situations, she introduces herself, "I don’t think we’ve met. I'm Clarke." She nods toward me, "This is my fiance, Bellamy."

Ontari snorts and gives her companion a condescending smile, all but ignoring Clarke. "Aww, Roan... you have friends. How cute."

He rolls his eyes, unaffected by the woman's apparent disdain, "This is my sister, Ontari. She's here visiting for the summer. Don't mind her, she's..."

Ontari sighs, her voice laced with boredom, "You can say it, Roan. I'm a bitch." He shrugs with a smirk. She rises to her feet with a disinterested yawn, "You guys are a drag... I'll be in the hot tub."

Clarke raises an unimpressed eyebrow, "It was a pleasure meeting you, too."

Ontari turns on her heel and waves over her shoulder, "Later, losers."

 ~~Magnus~~ Roan sighs as she disappears. "She didn't get a lot of love as a child."

I hoist myself out of the pool and grab a towel, shaking my head in amusement as I laugh under my breath, “ _Roan_ … I’ve known you for years. How do I not know your actual name?”

He grins, “To be fair, I didn’t know you as anything other than ‘B’ until last year.” 

"We figured _Magnus_ probably wasn't the name your parents gave you."

He shrugs, "My actual name isn't any less conspicuous." He looks over at Clarke, then back to me, "Though I'm intrigued to hear I've been a topic of discussion."

"Well-" My train of thought is effectively derailed when I see Clarke exit the pool and make her way to us with a deliberately hypnotizing sway of her hips, droplets of water clinging to her exquisite curves. There's a healthy flush still working its way out of her body after her orgasm. Her smile laced with feigned innocence, she straightens out her towel before stretching herself out on the lounge chair. Roan is clearly as lost for words as I am while he rakes his gaze over her outstretched form.

Clarke smirks, "You boys doing okay? You're being awfully quiet."

Roan coughs and averts his gaze, giving me an apologetic nod. 

Clarke goads with an indulgent wiggle of her body, casually trailing her fingers over her mouthwatering curves, "Oh, come on... I don't think there's anything here you both haven't already seen."

Roan shoots me a raised eyebrow, clearly intrigued by Clarke's display. I'm surprised to find that rather than feeling jealous, I'm incredibly turned on by her teasing.

I clear my throat. “Well, there’s a reason you’ve been a… topic of conversation.”

Roan smirks, “Please, continue.”

Clarke gives me a look, then turns her head to face him, “What would you say to another play… date. With just the three of us?”

He studies both of us carefully, ideas mounting in his depraved head, I’m sure. A satisfied smile graces his features, “I’d say I like the sound of that...”

 

* * *

 

Fresh off the excitement of making plans with Roan, Clarke and I head over to pick Alex up from the main building, now that practice has let out. I almost trip over my own feet when she comes into view…

Alex is talking to a kid. A boy. And she's smiling. At the boy. I tamp down the urge to haul over there and push the kid away from her, because he's male and not to be trusted. And yeah, I recognize I may be a little bit on edge and slightly overprotective right now. But, given recent events, I don't feel like it's misplaced. I know for a fact that Nate has been just as intensely protective of Alex since the incident with Cole, so I'm not alone in my concern (or, as Clarke calls it, “brutish overprotectiveness”). Clarke must sense it happening because I feel her calming hand on my forearm as we get closer to the pair.

She whispers, “Bell, calm down and stop glaring. They're just talking."

"Yeah, but it's a _him_." I groan, "Why can't all her friends be girls?"

Clarke rolls her eyes, "That's sexist." She stops in front and and turns around to face me, "That kid isn't Cole, okay?" I frown and look over where the kids are still talking to each other, oblivious to us.

I watch carefully as Alex touches her fingers to the fading bruise on her cheek and shrugs her shoulders, then smiles at something the boy says. He puts his hands on Alex's shoulders and turns her to the side, and it takes every shred of my self restraint not to go over and pry his hands off of her.

Clarke sighs, "Bellamy." She catches my gaze with her own, "Stop. Look at Alex. If she was uncomfortable or felt unsafe, we would know. She would not be standing there smiling." She shrugs, "Honestly, I'm surprised, but I'm glad."

I can feel a scowl on my face, "Glad?"

She nods, "Bellamy, she has been so isolated since the incident. She missed the entire last week of school before summer break because she was still recovering, and she didn't want to see her friends when she was still all bruised up. And she’s still refused see any of them since.”

I scoff, "Who could blame her, when they all played a part in her injuries?"

"Exactly. She could use a friend right now who isn't part of that circle." She looks over at Alex, who is laughing, and that's something I haven't seen a lot of lately. Maybe Clarke is right. "I don't want her spending her life afraid of people, Bellamy."

I glance at the kids again, narrowing my eyes at the way the boy is holding Alex's hand between his own. He shapes it into a fist, then pulls her thumb out, and I know exactly what he's showing her. It takes me back twenty years, when I showed Octavia the exact same thing - how it's important to keep your thumb outside of your fist when throwing a punch. The kid positions Alex in a defensive pose, then stands in front of her and holds one hand next to his head. She laughs when he points at his open palm, then shakes her head and throws her fist into it. The kid staggers back a little with a wide grin on his face.

Clarke nudges me with her elbow, "See, look. He's showing her how to throw a punch." She tilts her head with a grimace, "Though I'm not sure I love the idea of teaching her to be violent..."

Clarke and I reach them just as Alex lands another punch to her "target." Clarke clears her throat and Alex spins around with an electrified smile on her face.

"Mom! Look, Max is teaching me how to throw a good punch!"

The kid smiles nervously as I cross my arms over my chest and level him with a glare.

Clarke elbows me as Alex introduces the boy. "Guys this is my new friend, Max."  She points at us and tells the kid, "This is my mom, Clarke, and my step dad, Bellamy."

He holds his hand out, "Nice to meet you Missus-"

Clarke answers kindly with a handshake, "-Griffin."

"Nice to meet you Mrs. Griffin." He faces me and offers his hand, "And Mr. Griffin."

Clarke snorts (unhelpfully) as Alex corrects him, "Bellamy is a Blake."

I shake his hand, with possibly more force than necessary. "You can call me Mr. Blake."

He nods and shakes back, "Mr. Blake." He glances behind me, "Oh, hey dad."

I turn around and I'm met with a smirking Roan. I huff under my breath, " _Oh, for fuck's sake."_

Max picks up his hockey stick and duffel bag and walks past me to stand next to Roan, who tosses an arm over his shoulders.

He greets us, "Bellamy, Clarke, good to see you again."

Clarke laughs, "Roan, It's been what, ten minutes?"

Alex gasps, "You guys all know each other? This is amazing!" She tugs on Clarke's arm, "Mom, can we do a play date with Max and Roan?" 

I nearly _choke_ while Clarke manages to answer with a remarkably straight face, "Alex, that sounds like a wonderful idea."

Roan nods, "Agreed."

Clarke grins, "You have our cell numbers, so just text us and we'll work something out."

He shoots me an amused look, "Definitely."

Clarke smiles cheekily while she wraps her arms around Alex, "Can't wait." As Roan and Max depart, Clarke sides up to me and whispers, "Who knew _play date_ would have such a dirty double-meaning?"

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you need to go back and read the orgy chapters (42 & 43, I think) with Roan as Magnus, you know, for science… nobody will judge you. ;)
> 
> Next chapter: _actual_ PWP a la boanlarke. It's been coming along nicely, and I hope to have it done soon, as a good portion of it is already finished... At the risk of overselling, the next chapter some of the most explicit smut I've written. So... 
> 
> \-----
> 
> I touched a bit on the topic of interpersonal violence, and violence against women. It's upsetting that the mentality that "abusive behavior is acceptable" is instilled at an early age in this society... I've heard this sentiment repeated to children so many times in my life: _"Oh he's being mean because he likes you, he doesn't know how to tell you!"_ Those seemingly benign words carry a dangerous message for young people - Telling a young child that verbally berating or physically harming someone is an appropriate or acceptable way to show affection. Can we stop doing that, please? 
> 
> Also, sometimes I feel the need to re-touch on the concept of consent in this lifestyle, and make clear the distinction between BDSM and domestic violence/abuse. I hope I've established over the course of this story that Bellamy and Clarke's relationship is deeply rooted in love, trust and respect. The lifestyle they practice places high importance on explicit consent. The fact is, without consent, this kind of activity and dynamic _is_ abusive. 
> 
> If you want to talk with me about it, have questions, etc., please, come talk to me on [tumblr](http://missemarissa.tumblr.com) :)
> 
>    
> \-----
> 
> As always, COMMENTS and KUDOS give me life. They make my day every time, and I'm grateful for each one! 
> 
> Last, but certainly not least, thank you for reading!


	55. we'll worship you for it

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Tonight, Roan is our guest. Tell me, what do we do for guests in our home?"  
> "We make them happy, Sir."  
> I cup her face in my hand, "That's right." My thumb taps the apple of her cheek, "Do you know how we are going to make our guest happy?" 
> 
> Clarke blinks up at me, "How, Sir?" 
> 
> I smile, "We're going to show him a good time." 
> 
> Her eyes darken and a knowing smirk graces her features before she schools her expression into one of meekness and submission. This has been a fantasy of hers for a long time, now. I'm pleased to be able to fulfill it for her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU so much for all of your support last chapter! All your comments were truly motivating ~ I’ll be working on more comment replies after I post this, so if you haven’t gotten one yet, it’s coming!  
> **TW** This is a threesome, with M/M action. If you were cool with the orgy chapters, this chapter is about at that “level” of M/M… So, just a heads-up.  
> This chapter contains general sexual subjugation... but nothing intense. This is essentially a "tag team" of two dominants on a submissive, but in a very gentle approach. You're not going to find the humiliation tactics used on kink.com in this chapter (not to say they won't make an appearance in the future, though ;)) 
> 
> Also, I’ve split this into two parts, for a few reasons, particularly because it’s a lot to take in all at once, and was getting really intense. Also, it was getting pretty lengthy… 
> 
> I’d like to give a big thank you to my beta, [Amber](http://bilexualclarke.tumblr.com). And to [Maggie](http://bellohmyblake.tumblr.com) for our daily inspirational chats.

Clarke sits quietly in our bedroom, poised, on the bench at the foot of our bed. Her hair falls in loose waves over her shoulders. A short satin wrap is tied loosely around her frame, the top parted just enough to reveal her abundant cleavage. Soft light scatters through the room while low, resonant sounds come from the speakers, sculpting a hypnotic atmosphere. 

She turns to face me, smiles briefly at Roan, who entered the room with me, then watches me carefully as I come to stand in front of her. 

I give her a gentle smile, "Princess."

"Sir?" Her tone is captivating in its tranquility.

"Tonight, Roan is our guest. Tell me, what do we do for guests in our home?"

"We make them happy, Sir."

I cup her face in my hand, "That's right." My thumb taps the apple of her cheek, "Do you know how we are going to make our guest happy?"

Clarke blinks up at me, "How, Sir?"

I smile, "We're going to show him a good time."

Her eyes darken and a knowing smirk graces her features before she schools her expression into one of meekness and submission. This has been a fantasy of hers for a long time, now. I'm pleased to be able to fulfill it for her.

I grasp her chin between my thumb and index finger and turn her face to one side, then the other. She is docile, serene as she yields with a tractability that stirs something deep and primal inside of me.

"I think tonight will be quite enjoyable for you, Princess." After all, this is for her. "You belong to me, and as such, I have final say over anything and everything that happens here." She nods and waits patiently for me to continue, "That being said, tonight, you are to obey Roan's orders, as promptly and eagerly as you would obey mine.”

Her brows draw together, "What if he orders me to do something you wouldn't approve of?"

I crouch down in front of her with a gentle smile, "He won't. But I assure you, if he does make a demand I don't agree with, or asks for something outside our limits, I will stop him." I  search her eyes as I promise, "I will always keep you safe, Princess."

"I know you will." The raw trust in her eyes is mesmerizing, and I'm hit with an overwhelming need to protect her.

"You still have your safe words."

She nods, "Red to stop. Yellow to slow down."

"Good girl." I rise to my feet and hold out my hand. "Up."She stands, her spine straight and proud, arms resting at her sides while I inspect her clothed form.

I take her hands and pull her gently to the center of the floor. Roan comes up behind her as I tug at the sash of her robe. It falls open to reveal a skimpy shelf bra, its black lace cupping her generous tits. This bra is one of her favorite ways to tease me.  Her blush-colored areolas peek above the boundary of the garment, as if to taunt me with the fact that the rest of her tits are hidden from view.

Roan smoothes his hands over her shoulders then gathers the material of the robe as he slides it down her arms. Without taking his eyes off her body, he steps back and tosses it to the side. Her  sharp gasp rings in my ears as I drag the backs of my knuckles along the outer curves of her tits, catching on the lace cups.

"This is gorgeous."

The smooth curve of her waist twitches under my fingers when I sweep them down her torso. I tease the waistband of her thin panties, slip them underneath the garment just long enough for her body to take notice.

I tell her, "You look stunning." She tucks her chin to her chest and her hair falls down to hide her blushing cheeks. I sweep it back from her face to tuck it behind her ear, then trail my fingers along her jawbone. I tilt her head to face me again. "I mean it, Princess."

Her voice is barely a whisper, "Thank you."

I nod toward Roan, "Turn around and show him." She turns slowly to display herself and I take in the view of her backside, covered by her flimsy tanga, made of the same lace as her bra. Her blonde hair cascades down her back, the glossy curls bouncing with each movement of her body.

Roan smiles, "You are exquisite."

She nods, her voice a little more confident, "Thank you."

I pivot her body to face me again and she smirks a little when I tug the cup of her bra down to syroke the pad of my thumb over her nipple. I smile at the hitch of her breath when Roan steps close behind her and slips a finger under her bra strap.

My breath fans her temple, "As lovely as this is, we would like to see all of you." I trail my fingers along the band of her bra, slipping them underneath as Roan unhooks it. I pull the lacy garment away as he slides her panties down her hips, then lets them fall down her legs. I can't help but smile at the goosebumps that erupt over her skin as the fabric of her lingerie wisps down her limbs.

Clarke stands naked before us. Her heavy tits rise and fall with her chest in a slow, steady rhythm. Her arms rest at her sides, fingers unmoving. She fixes her serene gaze on me while Roan walks a slow circle around her. I stand with my arms crossed over chest, my thumb tapping slowly on my bicep while I observe her naked form and consider exactly how I want to take her apart tonight. By the time Roan comes to my side, I've made a decision. 

"Go to the side of the bed and present yourself, Princess."

"Okay," She says with a shrug as she turns around and walks toward the bed. Before she gets far, I loudly and pointedly clear my throat.

"You want to try that again?"

Clarke freezes. Perhaps she forgot that the mirror on the wall gives me a clear view of her triumphant smirk. She likes to test my patience to see just how much she can get away with before I give in and overpower her. She wanted me to call her out on her disobedience, and here I played right into her manipulation.

She is a goddamn master at getting her way.

I wait quietly  for the moment she realizes she's been caught... As the silence stretches on, her grin fades. She glances around slowly until she meets my unimpressed expression in the mirror. For a fraction of a second, I see the silent challenge in her eyes before she schools her features into practiced neutrality. I watch her in the mirror while I walk toward her.

"Princess, you're playing with fire..." She raises an eyebrow, but her body remains perfectly still as I come to a stop behind her. The light floral scent of shampoo clings to her hair and fills the air around her. Her hands twitch as my fingertips trail up the outsides of her arms. My palms flatten against her skin and I smooth them over her bare shoulders on a path to the front of her body.

Her breaths quicken as I glide my palm slowly around the front of her neck, her body shudders when I wrap my outstretched fingers around it. My curled index finger rests at the angle of her jaw, her pulse bounding just underneath. Her eager moan fills every corner of the room.

I pull away and meet her hooded eyes with a pleased smirk, "Oh, Princess, you are going to be so much fun tonight..."  Her body sways when I murmur low in her ear, "God, when you make those sounds..."  I wrap my arm around her waist and pull her back against me, "You feel that? How hard you make me?" She nods as her tongue flicks against her parted lips. My fingers briefly tighten around her neck, and she responds with a lecherous groan as she arches her back, rubbing her ass against my hard cock. I catch Roan's darkened gaze in the mirror as he watches our interaction.

I tap my finger along the long line of her neck, "You ready to try again?"

She smiles, "Yes, Sir."

"Alright, then." I release her from my grasp with an approving smile. Roan sides up next to me while we watch her walk toward the bed with a seductive sway of her ample hips. When she reaches the bedside, she spreads her feet apart and bends over slightly. She shoots us a glance over her shoulder, worrying her lower lip between her teeth with a coy expression that masks the sultry grin I know is trying to escape her.

Roan marvels, "Fuck, man... Look at her." 

I smile, "Oh, trust me, I know."

My chest pulls in a deep breath as she leans against the bed, the heels of her hands pressed into the mattress. She drops her head between her shoulders and my tongue aches to taste the mouthwatering curve of her neck. Roan hums an approving sound as she slowly slides her hands forward, her body following with practiced grace until her forehead rests on the sheets.

My feet carry me forward as my eyes trail along her bent-over form. Roan grunts when she pops her ass out, giving us a vulgar view of her cunt.

He raises an eyebrow, "It's like she's a goddamn mind reader."

I tilt my head with a dark smile as I study her. "Something like that."

A muffled squeal escapes her throat as I glide my hands over the graceful curve of her ass and give it a good squeeze. I grin at the shiver of her body when my hand slips between her thighs, fingertips trailing lightly over her labia. She turns her face to the side and blows ineffectively at the hair in front of her eyes. Roan bends down and sweeps it out of the way, tucking it behind her ear.

"Better?" He asks gently.

She nods, "Thank you."

Her body jolts when I flick my finger over her clit. I chuckle, "You're all ready for us, aren't you?"

She nods," Yes, Sir."

I squeeze her ass one more time before I step away. I take a seat on the bench where Clarke sat when we first walked in.

"Come here, Princess." She stands straight again and walks to me, giving Roan a proud smile as she passes him. She stands obediently in front of me while I smooth my palms up and down her sides. "Look at you." She smiles and looks down at my hands where they wrap around her waist.  Her skin practically glows underneath my palms, its pale color a stark contrast to my dark complexion, inherited from my Filipino father. I stretch my hands over her torso, "This body is ours tonight."

Her breaths pick up and she nods with contagious excitement. 

Roan grins as his finger skims the cleft of her ass cheeks, "We're going to fucking wreck you."

She inhales sharply and closes her eyes as she bites her lip to stifle a groan.

Roan shakes his head, "Nuh uh. We want to hear you."

"That's right, Princess.  No holding back."

She opens her eyes and meets my gaze with a hungry groan.

Roan approves, "That's a good girl."

Clarke smiles with another moan, squirms her hips, seeking friction where she needs it. She's already wet between her thighs, and her scent surrounds me as I attach my lips to her abdomen. My fingers knead the pliant flesh of her ass, then I spread her cheeks open. She flinches at the sudden vulnerability, but doesn't pull away.

I pull away to tell her, "Turn around."

Clarke gives a surprised gasp when she turns to find Roan towering over her.  She jumps as I sink my teeth into the soft flesh of her ass but Roan reaches out and steadies her with a firm grip on her shoulders. I give him a nod and he gently guides her down to sit in my lap.

As she leans back into me, murmur in her ear, "Let’s take care of you, Princess."

"Please..."  Her voice is so needy, I have to close my eyes to compose myself, otherwise I'll fucking devour her right now. 

I rub my hand down her leg and wrap it under her knee, then hook it over my thigh. I spread my knees and she shakes her head in protest as her free leg follows in an attempt to conceal her cunt. I laugh as I halt the movement of her other leg and hold it still.

"No."

She shivers and struggles against my hold. It's part of her play.

"Princess..." I give her a warning growl.

Clarke whimpers, a noise that goes straight to my cock. I know she can feel me hard underneath her. Good. I hook her other leg over my other thigh and spread my legs open. She's fully exposed now, her dripping cunt on splendid display. Her hands dart down to cover herself so I grab onto them and hold them to her sides. 

"No hiding."

She relaxes her legs and turns her head to bury her burning face in my bicep. Her arms finally go slack under my grip. "I'm going to let your hands go, but you're not to use them to hide your cunt again for the rest of the night." She breathes deeply at my stern tone and nods. I release her arms, and watch her biceps twitch and fingers curl.

Roan rakes his gaze slowly up and down her exposed body. Clarke rests motionless against my chest for all of half a minute before her hands find her tits. She sighs with relief as she kneads and plucks at her own nipples.

Roan steps forward and wraps his large hands around her wrists. "I believe he just said we're going to take care of you. That means all of you." She worries her lower lip between her teeth as he guides her hands above her and behind my neck. A sharp pain radiates from the nape of my neck, where her fingers  catch in my hair as she laces them together with an obedient nod. Knees hooked over my thighs, spread helplessly wide, arms hooked above her behind my neck. It's exactly the way she was positioned for the orgy.

Her smooth thighs twitch under my hands and she whimpers at Roan while his fingers travel down the sensitive undersides of her arms.

Roan's voice is honeyed, "Look at you..." He glances up at me, "She's absolutely exquisite." Clarke turns her blushing face away.

I guide her face forward so we can see her, "Princess... No hiding your face, either."

She nods, "I'm sorry, Sir."

I chuckle, "You're allowed to be proud when we tell you how incredible you are."

Her voice cracks a bit, "Then,thank you, Sir."

Roan crouches down in front of her and smiles, "We may demand obedience, little one-" He grazes the underside of her breast with his hand, "-but we'll worship you for it."

She holds his gaze as she nods slowly, "I'll be good, Sir." 

I whisper in her ear, "That's my good girl."

Clarke's body shivers as Roan drags his fingers in wide circles around her tits, and I feel the muscles of her torso twitch as she holds herself back from chasing them. "That's good. You're being so good." My hands slide delicately up her inner thighs. I lightly tickle my fingertips over her labia, then massage the sensitive skin just inside them, teasing but not touching her clit.

"Please... " Her voice trembles as I dip my fingers into her slit and draw out her wetness, spreading it around her cunt.

I huff, "You want more?"

"Yes, please, I want-" She cuts herself off with a gasp as Roan flicks his thumbs over her nipples and I press a finger to her throbbing clit. She jolts so hard at the contact that she nearly bounces off my lap.

Roan chuckles, "Like that?" Her body arches forward when we do it again. She gives us a breathy _yes_ and we up our efforts.  I sink one, then two fingers into her cunt, grinning at the tight clench around them as Roan lightly pinches her nipples between his fingers. 

It's not long before Clarke nears the edge. She pants heavily, her fingers clenching each other so tightly, I feel her knuckles pop  against my neck.

"Please, may I come?"

Roan smirks and looks over at me, "Should we let her come?"

I shrug,"It's your call this time."

He looks back down at Clarke, kneads a heavy breast in his hand while he inspects her writhing form. He grins at the lurch of her body when he scrapes the pad of his thumb over her nipple again.

He shakes his head with a soft smile, "Not yet, little one. Not yet."

Clarke lets go a shuddering sob. I crook my fingers inside her again, working her over while I whisper in her ear, "Shh... Relax for me." She takes a deep, slow breath. Then another. I watch the tension leave her body with each exhale. When she calms to my satisfaction, I assure her, "We're going to take real good care of you."  I grasp her chin to face me. "You know that, right?"

She nods, "Yes, Sir."  She worries her lower lip between her teeth that way she knows drives me crazy.

"Say it, Princess. Tell me what we're going to do for you tonight."

"You're going to take good care of me."

I up the tempo of my thrusting fingers as I release her chin and grin against her neck, "That's a good girl."

Her eyes slam shut and she shakes her head with a strangled moan, "No, I'm gonna come- please, you have to stop saying that or I'm gonna come!"

My voice both soothes and commands, "No, you won't..."

Roan smiles, "I've watched you endure much more than this without giving in..." He chuckles, "I remember, it was the same night I met you..." He tilts his head with a thoughtful look, lightly sweeps the back of his knuckles over her tits as she watches him, eyelids hooded, chest panting. I rake my teeth over the shell of her ear while Roan continues to talk, "You were on B's lap, his big cock stretching your cunt..." I scissor my fingers wide against the still-tight walls of her cunt. Her body flinches with a gasp when I let my thumb fall back down to her throbbing clit as he goes on, "Talia worked your little pussy, licking your clit with her magical fucking tongue..." He clearly remembers the potent effect of dirty talk on Clarke.

Clarke nods with agonized whimpers, "I- I remember."  Her voice bobs when my thumb presses harder on her clit and my fingers thrust vigorously into her cunt.

My voice is low in her ear "You did just fine, that time, didn't you, Princess?"

Clarke nods wordlessly, brows furrowed in concentration as she swallows her pleasure, holds back her orgasm for us.

Roan muses as his free hand sweeps along her midline up to her chest, "If I remember correctly, and I'm pretty sure I do-" His fingers dance along the swell of her breast. I mimic the treatment on the other side with my free hand while he talks to her, "-you're into nipple play." Clarke cries out when we twist her engorged nipples in unison.

"Oh my God! They're too sensiti-" She cuts herself off with another throaty cry as we tug again. I feel her velvety inner walls flutter around my fingers and she's so goddamn close to losing it.  But again, she reins it in. She keeps her pleasure at bay, even though I know it must be agonizing at this point.

Roan laughs, "I remember it, too... When I came up behind Mandy and sank my cock into her, she had her pretty mouth all over these tits..."

"Oh god," She breathes, "I really, really remember..."

My hands still working her over, I nibble on the shell of her ear, "You're doing so good, Princess... You're being so good for us, and I'm so proud of you." In the corner of my eye, I see her toes clench tightly.

She whimpers, her voice laced with agony, "Fucking fuck... I can't take this... It's too much, Sir." 

"We've got you, Princess." I smirk at the harsh clench of her walls. A sharp whine escapes her as Roan sinks a finger into her cunt next to mine, further stretching her tender flesh.

He gives me a nod and I whisper in her ear, "You wanna come for us?"

She nods furiously, her eyes squeezed closed. She releases her abused lip from between her teeth, "Yes, please..."

Roan's voice low in her other ear, "Come, now."

Silence falls from her open mouth and her body goes rigid in my lap. The fluttering walls of her cunt suddenly clench hard around our fingers as she succumbs to the decadence of orgasm. I attach my mouth to her neck, and hold the salty skin between my teeth, abrading it harshly with my tongue. Finally, she releases a gratified moan as her cunt pulses rhythmically around our fingers.

"Fucking beautiful..." Roan says as she comes down, with more reverence than I've ever heard from him.

I release her skin from my mouth and press a gentle kiss to the mark I've left.  "You hear that, Princess? You're fucking beautiful." Her chest heaves as she nods. "He's right. You're stunning." I kiss her temple, "Look in front of you, baby." She opens her eyes and gazes at our reflection in the mirror. Roan moves to the side to give her an unobstructed view. "Tell me what you see, Princess."

She sighs, "Uh, I- I see me... And you, Sir."

I chuckle, "Yeah, what else?"  I crook my fingers in her cunt, just to illustrate exactly what I want to hear.

"I see your fingers, and his finger, in my-" Her voice wobbles when I swipe my thumb over her over sensitive clit, "-in my cunt... They feel good."

"Yeah?"

She nods and catches my eyes in a searing gaze, "Yeah... I mean yes, Sir. They feel really good."

I feel Roan quirk his finger a few times before he pulls it out. He sucks it clean while he feasts his eyes on Clarke's exposed body. She follows his movements as he steps away and peels his shirt off. I'm not ashamed to admit that we're both a little distracted by the expanse of shredded muscle on display.

Clarke turns her face, her soft lips brushing the underside of my jaw, "You made me feel so good... Now I want to make you feel good."

I give her a smirk, "Is that right?"

She bites her lower lip for a moment, then nods, "Both of you."

I nod, "Alright, Princess." I help her stand up, catching her as she sways, finding her balance. "You doing alright?"

She smiles, "Very..." She takes a deep breath as I stand up and loom over her.

I gently grasp her chin, "Look at me." Her eyes are trusting and peaceful as she meets my gaze. I search her face, in complete awe of her beauty, the tranquility that radiates from her. A quick gasp escapes her lips as I slant my mouth over hers. Her tongue sweeps between my lips, and as it tangles with my own, it's like a wildfire ignites under my skin, burning through rational thought like oxygen. She is all-consuming. I walk her backwards and she groans into my mouth, breaking the kiss with a grunt when she bumps into the wall behind her.

I press a quick kiss to her nose  before I command, "On your knees." She drops immediately, never breaking eye contact. "Good girl." Her fingers immediately find my belt buckle but I wrap my hands around her wrists and shake my head, "Nuh uh... You didn't say please."

She stifles a smirk, instead looking up with a innocent smile, "Please, Sir. May I suck your cock?"

I laugh softly, "Sure, Princess." I nod over at Roan, "But what about him? We can't neglect our guest, can we?"

She shakes her head with a smile and looks over at Roan, "No, we can't." 

"While I take your mouth, how about you show him what you can do with your hands," I tell her as he walks over. His cock strains against the confines of his pants, and I wonder if it's as agonizing for him as it is for me.

Clarke nods, "Yes, Sir."

"Good girl. Now you may have my cock."

She shoots me a grin, "Thank you, Sir." Her hands dart up to my waist and her fingers deftly work the belt buckle, then the button and zipper while I tug my T-shirt off over my head. She glances up and her fingers stumble in their task as she rakes her gaze over my bare torso. I smirk at her distractibility, then push my hips forward just enough to jar her out of her little trance.

"Any day, now, Princess..."

She bites back her eye roll and peels down my boxer briefs. She inhales sharply as my cock springs free. The relief is so fucking sweet I can taste it, and I don't bother to suppress the moan that comes from deep in my chest. She pushes the pants and boxers the rest of the way down so I can step out of them, then kick them to the side.

The air is forced out of my lungs when she looks up at me, eyes wide, as she retracts the foreskin and flicks her tongue against the tip of my cock. The image is so erotic I could fucking black out.

"Fuck, I love your cock..." she sighs lustfully and wraps her lips around the head to give me a light suck. Before she takes me any further, I stop her with a shake of my head and nod over toward Roan, who has already unfastened his pants.

"Remember our guest, Princess." She pulls her head back and my cock falls from her shiny lips. She smiles up at me as she wraps her hand around my shaft again and presses a quick kiss to the tip. It takes every shred of restraint not to tangle my hands into her hair and hold her head in place while I bury my cock in her throat. The smirk on her face tells me she knows exactly what I'm feeling right now...

Clarke shifts her focus to our guest with a grin. With a curious expression, she wraps her free hand around his thick shaft. I watch the way she studies his cock, no doubt making comparisons between the two of us.

She states, matter of fact, "Huh. You're cut." She traces the edge with her fingers, "And you've got a curve, don't you?"

Roan huffs, "That is accurate."

She nods, "Besides that, though. Not too different."  She squeezes her hand around his cock, milking it for precome.  She grins as it oozes out of his shaft, then gathers it with her thumb and slicks him up. She watches the way he grunts when she presses her thumb to the frenulum and rubs it there.

"You like that?"

He opens his eyes and looks down at her hand with a nod, "Yeah, that's real good." After a moment, he wraps his hand around hers and guides it up and down his cock. "Now, like that." Clarke continues the motions when he drops his hand away, twists her fist at the base every few strokes.

Her hand still working him, she turns to face me again. Without wasting another second, she brings her mouth to my cock again. She hums and dips her tongue into my the slit. Pleasure jolts through me as she teases her tongue along the ring of inner foreskin. She pumps her other hand over Roan's cock and I watch his eyelids go heavy as she keeps stroking him. I shudder, bliss floods my body as she closes her lips around me and envelops my cock in the wet heat of her mouth. I lean my head on my forearm where it rests on the mirrored wall behind Clarke, and look down. I crack a grin at the memory of the orgy, where I stood just like this, watching from above while Luc sucked my cock. Only this time, it's Clarke on her knees, working me over like the goddamn expert she is.

"Fuck, Princess." She takes me until I hit her throat, then hollows her cheeks as she draws away. Every time she repeats the motion I lose a little more coherence, but I know she can take more.

"Come on, take me deeper, Princess..." I press my thumb to her chin, "I wanna feel your throat around my cock." She moans something fierce, then bobs down all the way. Her hand comes to my hip and her fingers dig in, her signal for me to take over. I wrap her hair around my fist to hold her head in place, and I can't hold back my coarse groan when her throat spasms around my cock, "Oh fuck, baby, that feels so fucking good." She hollows her cheeks again as I pull out and bliss comes alive in my veins. My cock falls out of her mouth as she takes desperate gulps of air, gagged tears falling from her eyes. I cup her cheek with my hand, “Keep going, Princess. You’re doing so good… fuck, you're so, so good.”

She smiles, hazy, as she opens her mouth for my cock. Before I know it, she's taken me back down her throat. Every spasm sends currents of pleasure through my body, the muscles of my stomach tightening and loosening in succession, and it's not long before I'm ready to come.

"Fuck, fuck-" I pull out until just the head of my cock rests on her tongue. It's a miracle my voice isn't shaking when tell her, "I'm gonna come, Princess, and I want you to swallow every bit of it." She nods with an indulgent smile, like it's her favorite fucking thing. "Don't spill a drop," I demand as I drive into her with a growl, burying my cock in her throat. As she swallows around me, every sensation in my body condenses to a singular, intense feeling of euphoria until it explodes out if me, straight into her hungry throat. Pulse after pulse of it, until I'm completely spent.

As I pull back out, she hollows her cheeks gently, and fuck... I wipe her tears from her cheeks with my thumbs, "That was good, Princess. So fucking good." She smiles with a sigh, wholly satisfied with herself. I hear a grunt from Roan and it's only then I remember that she's still working him with her other hand. Amazed, I huff, "Fuck, did you stroke him the whole time I was fucking your face?"

Clarke starts to answer but her voice is hoarse, her throat still in recovery after  its thorough fucking.  She clears it a few times before she's able to speak. "I accidentally stopped a few times because... you know."

I shake my head, "What do I know?"

She shrugs, shy, "You know how I get when I'm sucking your cock..."

"Tell me."

Her eyes flutter closed, "I get... Hazy and floaty... Almost like I'm delirious." She opens her eyes again, "It's good. I love it so much."

"I know." I draw my thumb along the outline of her swollen lips. "And you look so fucking gorgeous with my cock in your mouth, Princess." I glance up at Roan, "But we can't neglect our guests, can we?" 

She shakes her head, the lust in her eyes warring with feigned innocence, "No, Sir."

"How will you make it up to him?"

She looks at his cock for a moment, then back to me. "However you tell me to."

"Good answer." I smile, "I want you to show him how good your mouth is, Princess."

Roan leans sideways against the wall, casually waiting for Clarke to get to work. She grins and turns her body to face him and wastes no time following my command.

"Fuck," He says, gruff, as she slides her tongue along his tip, teasing a little before she moves her head forward to take his glans between her lips. She gives him a gentle but effective suck, if the shudder of his body is anything to go by.  He's holding back, so she grasps onto his hips and pulls him forward with a raspy groan as more of his cock slides between her lips.

Never in my life did I think it would be so incredibly hot to watch Clarke suck another man's cock, but the image in front of me is undeniably erotic. More than that, she’s doing it because I told her to. When she finally takes him into her mouth, his answering groan is as much relieved as it is hungry for more.

I know he's treading carefully, not wanting to push her too hard or demand more than she's able to give. But Clarke is having none of his hesitation. She pulls back and I watch his cock, shiny with her saliva, reappear from her mouth. I don't stifle my groan, and Clarke definitely hears it. She doesn't take her eyes off her current task, but the proud grin in her eyes says it all. Her thighs subtly rub together, because of course she fucking gets off on this. She bobs down a few more times before she pulls back completely with a raised eyebrow.

She takes one of his hands and places it on her head as she explains, her voice a mix of exasperation and pleading, "I'm not going to fucking break."  Like instinct, he tangles his fingers into her hair and tugs a lecherous groan from her willing throat just before he drives his cock deep into it. I'm stunned by the way her flexed arms fall slack to her sides, her clenched fingers unfurl, her shoulders relax...

Her whole body radiates relief, because someone is taking control for her.

I find myself kneeling behind her while she sucks his cock.  I press myself flush against her back so her skin fuses to mine in every possible place. While my fingers dance along the soft planes of her body, I keep my voice low in her ear, "Do you have any idea how fucking hot you are like this?" She groans between Roan's thrusts and I continue, "You're fucking incredible." My hands glide along her front, kneading and plucking at her heavy tits, and I relish every single sound she makes. "This body here-" I squeeze her tighter against me, "-you're letting him use it, just because I told you to... That's fucking amazing, Princess. You are so fucking incredible."

I shove my hands between her legs and impale her wet cunt with my fingers. I curl them inside of her, roll my thumb on her clit, work her with precision while I drive her rapidly into a state of bliss. Undeniable satisfaction floods my body as her frame shudders against me. A desperate whimper escapes her throat, and I know she's close.

Her body plastered against mine, the deep rumble of my voice vibrates through her, "I want you to come, Princess... While my fingers are in your cunt, and his cock is in your mouth. Can you do that for me?" She gives a quick nod as he thrusts back in. "Then do it. Now. I want to feel you come for me." I vibrate my hand and her whole body responds - her walls flutter, her muscles shake. Suddenly, her wound up pleasure escapes her hold and she comes with a wrecked cry, her cunt clenching powerfully on my fingers. Roan's cock falls out of her mouth when her jaw goes slack and her body falls limp, held up only by my arm around her waist. I fall back to sit my heels, bringing her with me as her body shivers with the tail end of her orgasm.

I shift her sideways in my lap and hook my arm under her knees, then hold her close as I stand up and carry her to the bed. I cradle her in my lap and she curls into my chest, her fingers drawing absent-minded patterns onto my bare chest.

"That was so good, Princess."

Her smile is peaceful when she nods, then nuzzle her nose into my chest. She whispers against my skin, "Can I have some water?"

I nod, "Of course."

As if he was expecting the request, Roan is already walking back to the bed with a bottle of water. She drinks it down greedily, then settles against my chest again with a contended sigh.

He chuckles, "Is she tapping out early?"

Before I can answer, she huffs, "Not a chance... I just need a few minutes." She laughs softly, "You guys are taking really, really good care of me." Still curled into me, she turns her face to see him. In the mirror, I see her mischievous expression as she gives him a once-over. "Not to mention, you haven't come once yet." She shoots him an apologetic smile, "Sorry about that..."

Every muscle on the man's body ripples when he casually shrugs, "Yet."

Roan takes a seat next to me and pulls Clarke's feet into his lap. His fingers work strong patterns into the muscles from her calves to her toes. The fact that she's letting anyone even touch her feet speaks to the level of relaxation she's reached.  She sighs, content, while the hypnotic beat of the music sits heavy in the air.

Clarke breaks the comfortable silence, "Bell?"

I kiss her forehead, "Yeah, Clarke?" In the corner of my eye, she slowly drags her toe up Roan's thigh. Just as she's about to brush his cock with her toe, he catches it with a grunt and a playful grin. Which, I don't catch Roan looking playful very often. Clarke tends to draw unexpected emotions out of people without even realizing she's doing it.

She keeps her voice casual, "I know I could make him come, but..."

I raise an eyebrow, "But?"

She whispers, barely audible, as if she's telling me her most heavily guarded secret. "I want to see you do it."

I give her a grin, "I didn't quite catch that. I think you need to repeat it."

She says a little louder this time, "I want to see you do it."

"See me do what?"

She shrugs with contrived timidity, and mumbles, "I want to see you make him come."

I shrug with a shit eating grin, "What do you mean?" I swallow the last of my water bottle, "I was making him come. Via proxy."

She narrows her eyes and elbows me right in the sternum. I squeeze her body tightly against mine before she can try it again. She struggles half heartedly against my hold for a few moments before she decides not to fight it. She sighs, "I want to see you do it without a 'proxy.'"

Roan and I share a look and Clarke makes an exited noise.

I tilt my head, "Okay. Let’s say I'm considering it... How do you suggest I do it?"

She shrugs again, coy, and mumbles something incomprehensible before leaning her forehead against my chest.

I shake my head and Roan laughs, "Louder, little one."

She bites teasingly at my chest, then sits up straight with a filthy grin and looks us each in the eye before she addresses me, "I want to see you suck his cock."

I press a kiss to her forehead, "Now was that so hard?"

She rolls off my lap with a snicker, but before she can answer, I pull her back between my open legs and cover her lips with mine. Her fingers dance along my jawline as she parts her lips with a ravenous growl that ignites my blood with a zealous need for her. I could spend the entire night here, my lips fused to Clarke's, but I'm pulled out of my thoughts by Roan's amused, albeit somewhat impatient huff.

I release Clarke from my grip with a chuckle, then turn to face Roan. I tilt my head toward the top of the bed, "Get up there."

He slides backwards, slowly. Too slowly for my liking. I press a hand to his chest and shove him roughly onto his back, then straddle his hips. He looks momentarily surprised by the rough treatment, but then shoots an amused grin because he knows there is nothing tender about the two of us. He rakes his eyes over my body, halting on my cock, already half hard despite Clarke's talented mouth completely draining me not long ago. With one hand high on his chest and the other tangled in the hair above his head, I hold him still and hover my face above his. He narrows his eyes in challenge and I teasingly flick my tongue over his lips before descending completely to take them in an unyielding kiss. With a growl, he grabs the back of my head and shoves his tongue past my open lips. Kissing a man is a different experience, especially one who is, at his core, as dominant as I am. For us, it becomes a push and pull of who controls that moment.

I break away with a cocky grin, and he watches me, unbridled lust in his eyes, as I trail my lips down his chest, drag my teeth over his ribs, then dip my tongue into the defined V of his obliques. He growls, thrusts his hips up, urging me on as I slowly draw a line to his hips. I grasp onto his thighs to hold him down when I pick my head up with a smirk.

"Have some fucking patience..." I nod toward Clarke, "What kind of example are you setting?"

He rolls his eyes but glances up at Clarke, who sits on folded knees by his shoulder. She is completely entranced, eyes wide as short pants come through her parted lips. Clarke makes a choked sound when I take his shaft in hand and thumb the oozing precome to slick his cock up, stroking him up and down.

"Enjoying the view, little one?" Roan asks, amused.

She blinks at him and nods slowly. "Yes, Sir."

I chuckle, "Princess, how about you play with yourself until we're ready to fuck you."

She nods, dazed, as her hand makes its way down to her pussy. She breathes a shaky "Oh, fuck," as her finger grazes her clit on its way to sink into her cunt. While she works herself over, I stroke Roan up and down again.

I clear my throat to call his attention,  "Actually, how about this: I'm going to suck you off, but you’re going to do something for me."

Roan huffs, "Name it."

I tilt my head toward Clarke, "You have to take care of her. Make her feel as good as I make you feel."

Roan looks up at Clarke, then back down at me with a salacious grin, "Oh. Hell yeah."

I ask Clarke, "That okay with you, baby? Can he make you feel good?"

Clarke gives us both an excited smile as she echoes Roan's sentiments, "Hell, yeah."

Stroking Roan’s cock in my hand, I look at Clarke, "What do you want for him to do for you, Princess? Tell us. Be very specific."

Roan concurs, "You've gotta tell me exactly what you want. I want the dirtiest details that head of yours can come up with."

She closes her eyes and drops her head back for a moment. I watch the rise and fall of her tits as she breathes deeply, marvel at the way her body glows with the sheen of sweat. She lifts her head back up with a grin that can only be described as _fucking_ _obscene_.

She gives Roan a sultry smile while she takes his hand in hers and lightly traces its boundaries with her fingers, "I already have a good idea of what these hands can do." She trails her fingertips to his lips, "I want to know what your mouth can do."

Just before I lower my mouth to Roan's cock, I add, "Dirtier, Princess... I seem to recall him asking for details."

Roan's cocky laugh morphs into a drawn-out groan as I push his veined cock up against his abdomen and lick a strong line from base to tip. He makes an obscene noise of appreciation when I flick my tongue against the tip. With my forearms holding his hips down, swirl my tongue around the head few times, pressing him still when he tries to thrust into my mouth.

His cock is hard like granite and smooth like velvet against my tongue as I bob down to take him in my mouth. I'm not exactly well-practiced at sucking cock anymore so I gag pretty fucking quick when he hits my throat. Not to be deterred, I take him in again, a little slower this time. He tastes hot and salty, slightly tangy as he slides in and out of my mouth.

My thoughts are interrupted by Clarke's smoky voice as she describes, in filthy detail, exactly what she wants from Roan.

She rasps, "I want to know what it feels like when your tongue is buried deep in my cunt.."

He nods, "I can't wait to taste you... What else, little one?"

Her voice quivers slightly, "I think I also want you to suck my clit.." She touches the pads of her fingers to his lips, "Yeah..."

I watch him wrap his fingers around her dainty wrist, holding her hand still while he nibbles and sucks the trembling tip of her finger into his mouth. I’d grin at the way her whole body shivers if my mouth wasn’t filled with cock.

She moans, "Oh, fuck... Yeah, I want that."

He releases her finger, "You want what?"

"I want you to fuck me with your tongue... And then I want you to suck on my clit while you fuck me with your fingers."

Roan chuckles, "You're doing real good, little one."

She smiles, "You know, Bellamy is the only man who has made me come with his mouth..." She shoots me a grin when she asks him, "Do you think you can do it, too? Are you good at tongue-fucking a girl?"

Roan gives her a lopsided grin, “Oh, you have no idea what you’re in for.” I know for a fact that Talia has given him the same detailed lessons she gave me all those years ago... He'll get the job done.

He lets go a deep moan when I suck him down with renewed vigor, his thigh muscles flexing under my hands where I hold him down. Despite the haze of pleasure etched on his features, he is able to focus just enough to wrap his hands around her waist and guide her cunt over his face. He knows I want to watch her as she comes undone, so he positions her to face me. She leans forward and steadies herself with her palms on the hard planes of his abdomen. Her soft hair falls down like a curtain, brushes over his stomach when she drops her head between her shoulders.

She jerks her head up to look at me when I reach up and cover one of her hands with my own. I'm about to tell her to get up on her knees so that I can truly see her get fucked, but then I see her face. Her body freezes in place as she digs her fingers into Roan's abdomen. Her eyes are dark, her salacious gaze fixed on Roan's cock in my mouth.

The breathlessness of her voice is intoxicating, "Oh. My. God." Her lithe arms flex as she pushes herself up and rises to her knees. "That is so fucking hot... his cock in your mouth like that? Touching your lips, and your tongue?"

I can't fight a growl, which, judging by the way Roan surges into my mouth, is much appreciated.

I release Roan's cock with a loud "pop" sound, " _You_ are fucking hot, Princess."

She smirks at me, her voice trembling despite her attempts to maintain composure. "Will you let me come for you, Sir, while he fucks me with his mouth?"

"Yeah, you'd fucking better, Princess."

She can't fight her own whimpers as Roan's fingers make their way between her saturated folds. She makes a valiant effort to maintain composure as he pinches her labia between his fingers and spreads them apart, flicking his tongue lightly against her exposed clit. "I want you to watch me come for you, Sir."

I nod, "Fuck, yes." With Roan's cock in my hand, I dip down and lick his head, watching Clarke intently as she embraces her pleasure. Roan's tongue now twisting inside her cunt, she pulls her own hair with one hand while her other plucks each nipple, over and over again. She mewls when he brings a hand around her front and flicks his finger over her clit a few times.

I close my mouth over him again and suck hard, feeling a stab of pride when his fingers stumble in their task. Just as quickly as he loses focus, he's back in the game, making sure Clarke is losing her damn mind above him. She shudders with a tiny squeal as Roan grabs her ass cheeks to spread them apart, then quickly drags his tongue from her slit and back. She kneads her tits in her small hands, moans as she twists her nipples between her fingers.

She opens her eyes to watch me again, "I can't believe how hot it is to see you suck a cock..." Her voice swells when Roan swirls his tongue around her clit, growls when he swipes his tongue back again and rims her tight hole. "Oh my God!"

"Should I stop?" Roan asks teasingly.

She shakes her head furiously, her voice breathy, "Don't you dare." Her body falls forward, catching herself with her elbows on Roan's hard abdomen. Her face just inches from mine, she holds my gaze with ferocious intensity, licks her lips while her eyes drop to my mouth.

I let Roan's cock fall from my mouth and surge up to catch Clarke's lips with my own. She licks into me deeply, as if to chase the taste of his cock on my tongue. She grips my arm and digs her fingernails in as she kisses me with a ferocity that has me rutting against the goddamn mattress.

We're interrupted by Roan clearing his throat and thrusting his hips up. He's apparently not a fan of being left out. Clarke grins and wraps her hand around his shaft and tilts toward herself.

She whispers, "Together?"

I nod with a smirk, "Together."

I have to take a moment to gather my wits, because is this fucking real? Because I'm on my bed with my fiance, as she's being pleasured by another man, whose cock we are sucking. Together. Jesus fucking Christ...

She looks me in the eye while she gently probes the slit at the tip of his cock with a filthy moan. I tease my tongue under the frenulum and Clarke and I share a grin at the strangled noise he makes. I lick up his shaft again, but can't take my eyes off Clarke. When I get to the tip, I capture her top lip with mine. Her tongue leaves his cock again to lick into my mouth for just a moment before she wraps her lips fully around the tip again.

"That's it, Princess." She raises an eyebrow and I nod, "Go on." She takes him in a few inches and gags. She's fucking with us. Not even an hour ago, she deep-throated him. I shake my head, "You can take more and you know it." Her eyes smile as she sinks her mouth down on him again, this time letting him hit her throat. She closes her eyes and gives him a hard suck, then pulls back. His cock falls from her lips as she lets go a rough moan.

Her eyes flutter closed, "Oh, god, that's so good..." Roan's hips thrust up again, clearly showing her that if she wants more, she has to give more. She chuckles with a nod, "Yeah, okay..." and takes him in her mouth again.

While Clarke pumps his cock with her mouth, I bring my tongue to the base and trace a path to his balls. I suck one lightly, then the other.

He chokes out, "Fuck, I'm close!"

I pull my head away and firmly  grip the base of his cock,  "Not until she comes, you're not."

As if she was waiting for the demand, she pulls her mouth away from his cock. She tells me, "You finish him," then whispers in my ear, "I don't want anyone's come in me but yours..." My eyes slam shut as I absorb the simple eroticism of her words, the thought of my come being inside her, the reminder that coming inside her has a new purpose and nearly every day for the past six weeks, we've been actively trying to get pregnant. Fuck, she could _be_ pregnant right now. My hand slides behind her neck of its own accord, my fingers tangling themselves on the sweaty hairs at the nape of her neck. I pull her head down and surge up to meet her halfway in a deep, insistent kiss that sets me aflame.

After our lips let go, I hold her forehead against mine, "I love you."

I see her lips quirk up in a grin, "I love you, too." Her tongue grazes the shell of my ear and she whispers, "Now let me come for you."

She pushes back up to her knees, giving me a decadent view of her writhing body, her cunt speared by his tongue as she kneads at her tits. He brings a hand around her front and rubs relentlessly at her clit. Finally, with a shuddering cry, her body stiffens. Her nails dig into her own skin as she comes for us, and it's so goddamn beautiful. 

With a hoarse yell, he finally lets go. I close my eyes, his tangy flavor hitting the back of my tongue in spurts as I swallow it down.

When I open them again, Clarke is inches from my face wearing a truly impure grin. "Now, can we get to the main event?"

I nod, "Oh, Princess... Just you wait."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter’s end notes, I promised “explicit.” Consider this a warmup of sorts for Chapter 56, where a very specific fantasy of Clarke’s will be visited... and then some ;)
> 
> Also, again, keep the COMMENTS and KUDOS coming. They are so important. **Your comments are the actual lifeblood of this fic**. It’s how I know I still have readers. Your feedback makes it worth the effort to keep writing. There are days when I’m like, “Why am I doing this?” Then I go back and read the prior chapter’s comments, and I’m like, “Oh yeah, that’s why!” So, seriously, just a few words makes a huge difference! I know sometimes it takes extra time, but anyone who has left comments on my fics knows that I try and respond in kind (even if it takes me a while!).
> 
>  
> 
> As always, thank you so much for reading!
> 
> Come visit me on [tumblr](http://missemarissa.tumblr.com)!


	56. your princess is watching

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "How are you doing?" He asks, his voice still somewhat hoarse.
> 
> A satisfied grin stretches across my face, "Very, very well." The sultry tone of my voice is unintentional but appreciated, if Roan's grunt behind me is anything to go by.
> 
> Bellamy glances at Roan, having some sort of wordless conversation with a few nods of the head. Roan gives my hip a squeeze before he rolls away and off of the bed. Bellamy looks back down at me and presses a kiss to my nose.
> 
> "Are you ready for more?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FIRST: Thank you guys so much for your patience between updates. The **comments** have been marvelous and a really great source of motivation on days when I’ve felt less than stellar about writing.  
>  _Also_ A huge thank you to everyone who voted for me in the Bellarke Fanfiction awards this summer - I took away best smut author, best smut drabble, and **Oh yeah, don’t let me forget, **BEST WIP** for this fic right here!**** Seriously, it made me so happy :) 
> 
> TW: Same as last chapter  
> -general sexual subjugation  
> -tag team dominants on one submissive  
> -Erotic humiliation, but not to an extreme degree  
> -Anal ;)  
> However, there is significantly more M/M action in this chapter. You’re welcome. 
> 
> I would like to extend resounding gratitude to my beta, Amber for her sharp eye, quick turnaround, and excellent advice! And shout out to Maggie, who is truly to blame for the dirtiest parts of this chapter. Probably.

 

I will never forget the sight of Bellamy's mouth wrapped around Roan's cock. He's a commanding presence, pinning Roan on his back and directing him to pleasure me. I never imagined I'd want another man's mouth on me, but suddenly I can think of nothing but how Roan's lips feel, wrapped around my clit, or how his tongue writhes inside my cunt as it works me over to climax. All under Bellamy's orders.

As Roan nears orgasm, his tongue stutters inside my cunt, trips over each zing of his own pleasure as Bellamy sucks him off with a carnal ferocity. My hands find my breasts and I embrace the bliss that strums through me. Each twist of his tongue inside me, each roll of his thumb on my clit pushes me higher, and I'm so, so close. Then I look Bellamy in the eyes and the world goes still. My body tenses and pleasure grips my entire being until it snaps. My eyes slam shut while my orgasm pulses through my entire body. Roan's tongue carries me through, never ceasing its twisting motion inside of me.

My legs tremble with the strain of staying upright and I try to move off his face so I don't smother him, because in all this bliss I find it nearly impossible to support myself. But Roan is having none of that. His hands grip onto my hips with bruising force, holding me in place above him. Fuck, the restraint on my body intensifies my pleasure exponentially. My legs completely give out, and in a testament to his incredible upper body strength, he keeps my hips elevated above his face while he continues to tongue fuck me through my orgasm.

The rhythm of his tongue falters as he lets go a growl that rumbles through my whole body. Gentle, post-orgasm ripples of pleasure rise from my pulsing cunt to my chest, radiate through my trembling limbs as I fall forward.  I catch myself on my forearms and I open my eyes just in time to see Roan come in Bellamy's mouth.  It's beautiful, powerful, the way Bellamy closes his eyes while he holds Roan down, keeps him in place as his hips attempt to thrust wildly into his mouth. I don't hold back a whimper at the sight of his lips wrapped around Roan's cock, cheeks hollowed out to give one last bit of suction before he releases him. Roan's heavy breaths are hot against my cunt as he recovers.

Bellamy opens his eyes and snaps his hungry gaze to mine. I give him a sultry grin, "Can we get to the main event now?" 

His voice is hoarse in the best way, "Princess, just you wait."

He surges forward and captures my lips with his own. He deepens the kiss and I groan at the distinct, unfamiliar taste of Roan's come on his tongue. With a sweep of his fingers, Bellamy gathers my hair and brings it in front of my shoulder. The cool air pricks at my bare skin and I vaguely register that Bellamy rises to his knees, taking me with him so Roan can move from under us. Somehow I find myself straddling Roan's thigh, my back pressed against his chest, while locked in a passionate kiss with Bellamy. I break away with a gasp at the shocking but oh-so-welcome drag of Roans lips down my back. My skin tightens as goosebumps erupt over my whole body while he makes his way up my spine.  He laves his tongue over the nape of my neck, gently suckles my sensitive skin while Bellamy's tongue sinks into the hollow of my throat.

A breathy "Fuck" falls from my mouth and I lose myself in the sensations of lips, tongues, wandering hands all over me. It's nearly too much, too soon. I'm already three orgasms in, and if they keep up this pace, I'm not going to make it through the night. Somehow they know this. They gradually let up, then lay me down on the bed between them. Bellamy pulls me close and I smile with each gentle kiss he presses to my forehead while I tangle my legs in his. Roan is a steady presence at my back. Warmth radiates from his hand where it rests, heavy, on the curve of my hip. We rest for just a few minutes, the three of us tangled together, while our breaths slow down and even out. 

I open my eyes to find Bellamy watching me, swathing me in his steady gaze and gentle smile.

"How are you doing?" He asks, his voice still somewhat hoarse.

A satisfied grin stretches across my face, "Very, very well." The sultry tone of my voice is unintentional but appreciated, if Roan's grunt behind me is anything to go by.

Bellamy glances at Roan, having some sort of wordless conversation with a few nods of the head. Roan gives my hip a squeeze before he rolls away and off of the bed.  Bellamy looks back down at me and presses a kiss to my nose.

"Are you ready for more?"

I nod and Bellamy sits up, pulling me with him. Roan returns with more water for each of us. My legs dangle over the edge of the mattress as I sit patiently and sip my water. I listen to the men as they discuss the plan for the rest of the night, but my head is elsewhere, still reeling from the intense pleasure they've given me. Bellamy turns to check on me again. Really, all this attention seems overboard, but far be it from me to try and tell him what to do. Of course, if I were to say that, Bellamy would quickly point out the numerous times I have, in fact, tried to tell him what to do. And it's true. But it's far from unintentional.

There are times when I crave Bellamy's discipline. My mind yearns for the blissful lightness that fills me when I relinquish control. Sure, I could just ask for a punishment if I wanted. There's nothing to stop me from going over to him and requesting a spanking. And sometimes I do exactly that. He rarely denies me pain when I ask for it... But the fact is, there's no feeling that can replace the overwhelming sense of rightness that cradles my soul when he bestows discipline. Enduring the consequences of my misbehavior is a chance to feel absolution, however small. When he asserts his dominance, he frees me. He relieves me of responsibility, takes away my feelings of shame and disgust. It's like hitting a reset button. All feels right with the world.

Bellamy places his steady hand on my thigh, "Do you know how incredibly hot it was to hear that?"

I tilt my head, "To hear what?"

He smiles, "To hear you tell me that you don't want anyone's come inside you but mine."

I shrug, "It's true." I keep my voice even and controlled, concealing the whirlwind of thoughts about that. Sure, there's the obvious fact that in the absence of my IUD, I could be unprotected against pregnancy (although, given his vasectomy, Roan poses no threat in his arena). But it's more than that. It's about Bellamy's ownership of me.  It feels wrong to even swallow someone else's come.

"I belong to you, alone. No one else."

His chest expands with a deep breath. My heart skips a beat at the gentleness in his eyes when he taps his thumb on my cheek, "That's right."

His fingers trail along my jawline, catching on the dimple of my chin as he angles my head. My eyes flutter closed when he cradles the side of my face with a gentle hold, as if I might otherwise shatter. He meets my lips with his own, wet like he just licked them. His kiss is insistent, his mouth firm and unyielding, a stark contrast to the delicate caress of his hand on my cheek. He breaks the kiss and presses his forehead to mine, brushes our noses together with a sweetness that makes my heart ache.

He steps away and I watch the men, carefully committing to memory their hard bodies as they maneuver around each other, perfectly in sync as they set out the items for our next activity. A thrill bubbles through my chest while I mentally catalog the objects they place on the bed. There are the expected items, like condoms and lube. But, I'm drawn to the skeins of rope.  My mind races with possibilities as I wonder to myself exactly how they might be used...

Bellamy's voice pulls me out of my thoughts, "I want you to edge yourself, Princess." I nod slowly, still feeling a little dazed. He tilts his head toward the top of the bed. "Get up there so we can watch you."

A wave of lust surges through me at the thought of being watched. Inspected. Judged while I touch myself under his explicit direction... It's one of the most erotic things I've ever experienced. I prop myself up on a stack of oversized pillows, their softness cradling my back as I lean into them. I patiently await further instruction as he bends forward to rest his forearms on the bed, his steady gaze fixed on me.

"Open your legs, Princess. Let me see you." The words roll off his tongue and settle over my body like a cloud. My lungs draw a sharp breath at the sensation of the cool air of the room against my wet pussy when I part my bent knees, opening wide for him.

"Good, just like that."

My cunt is in a state of hypersensitivity, flushed and tender after repeated orgasms. With one hand, I part my labia and Bellamy doesn't bother to stifle his greedy moan at the arousal that seeps out of me. 

"Like this?"

"Yeah, Princess." Bellamy's rough voice lights up every nerve in my body. "Show us that pretty pussy... Make it feel good." I follow his gaze, fixed on my cunt as my fingers make slow circles around the edge of my slit before dipping carefully inside.  I let out a shaky breath as I withdraw, a string of the viscous fluid still clinging to my finger. He scrubs his hand over his face. "Holy fuck."  His strangled tone fills me with glee.

Roan directs, "Come on and touch your clit, little one." My breath hitches at the name, _little one,_ bringing back rousing and vivid images of a night of fantasy role play with Bellamy. My body pulses with excitement at the memory of his chilling voice calling out, " _Little one, are you still hiding from me?"_ The thrill of the chase, the rush of the struggle while Bellamy ravaged and consumed me in the best way.

Roan's approving hum draws me back from my reminiscence. His hungry gaze peels into me, and I feel a whole new level of exposed. A jolt of electricity cracks through my body when I press a finger to the throbbing bundle of nerves.  "That's right... That's a good girl."  I see Bellamy's grin in the corner of my eye as Roan's encouragements wash over me.

My attention is drawn back to Bellamy when he clears his throat. "Use your finger and tap your clit, Princess." Each touch sends a jolt to my limbs, my muscles jumping under my skin as my legs attempt to close themselves. 

Roan says again, "Nuh uh, keep those pretty legs open."

"I'm trying..." 

Bellamy presses his hands over my inner thighs and braces my legs open.  "That better?" 

Oh god, is it ever... I nod with a shaky exhale, "Yes, that's better." My heart races at the realization that I'm being held down, forced to stay open and exposed to his scrutiny.

I see Bellamy's body twitch with Roan's handling, and my mind races with debauched thoughts of what he's feeling right now. He arches his back as Roan slides one hand up his spine and back down again. He reaches his free hand around Bellamy's front and wraps his fingers around his hard cock.

Bellamy's eyes slam shut and a low growl forms deep in his throat. God, he's so beautiful. His jaw goes slack before he drops his head between his shoulders with a shuddering sigh. I hear a strained _"Oh my god"_ and it takes me a moment to realize that it came from me.

Bellamy huffs and looks back up at me. "You doing alright?"  His deep voice jars me and a sharp cry escapes my throat when my fingers trip roughly over my clit. I nod, my lips pressed tightly together to contain the embarrassingly aroused moan that begs for release. Bellamy lands a stinging slap to my inner thigh, "Use your words, Princess." 

Roan concurs, "Remember what we said little one? We want to hear you." Jesus fucking christ, these men are going to be the actual death of me.  Their voices and commands, with the touch of my finger, threaten to send me over the edge. 

Bellamy, of course, immediately picks up on it. He knows I'll come soon. He squeezes his hands on my thighs and presses them open even harder, and _goddammit_ I can't tell if he's trying to make things harder... He switches it up, holding one thigh down with his large hand, the other underneath his elbow, trapping my wrist between my mons and his forearm, freeing his other hand up. He grins mischievously at my cunt while he plunges one, then two fingers into me. Yes, he absolutely knows that he's making it agonizingly difficult to contain my climax. His fingers move inside me in a controlled fashion, and the simmering pleasure builds up, slowly but steadily, until it threatens to boil over.

Bellamy shakes his head, "Watch it, Princess. No one said you can come yet. Hold it in." 

I close my eyes and breathe in through my nose, then slowly out through my mouth as I channel the pleasure of my lingering orgasm. In my mind, I see the tight coil of ecstasy, ready and begging to snap. And if I let it, it'll feel so, so good... But I can't. Not yet. With every exhale, I relax that spring, loosening the tension as the sublime energy slowly dissipates, like a steady current that radiates all the way out to my toes.  It's blissful, in the most controlled way.

Precariously balanced.

Suddenly, my finger is pushed out of the way. My eyes snap open to see Bellamy's mouth cover my pussy. His velvety tongue laves over my clit while he draws it into his mouth with a vibrating growl.  My orgasm is torn out of my control. Within seconds, that coil tightens back up and I can't stop its vicious snap as I come _hard._  My walls clench down on his fingers, and he scissors them, as if to spread me wider while my body attempts to both pull him in and push him out. 

"Oh, fuck!" My voice is laced with pleasure but there's a distinct color of defeat in its tone. I feel Bellamy's sigh, like a gust of disappointment against my cunt, as he laps at me while I come back down.

Roan shakes his head and my stomach knots up at his unimpressed expression, "Did we say you could come, little one?" 

I shake my head, "I couldn't help it." My tone is appallingly weak. I'm both embarrassed and stunningly aroused by the thought of how utterly wrecked I must look to them. 

"Oh, she couldn't help it?" Bellamy asks. A humiliating jolt of want cracks through me at the sound of his contrived sympathy.

I huff and shoot him a glare, "That was unfair, dammit!" The petulant words linger in the air between us and I wish more than anything that I could snatch them back...

Roan and Bellamy share a look before turning back to me. "It sounds like you need an attitude adjustment, Princess." Bellamy's voice is smooth. Matter-of-fact. I might even call him bored if I didn't know better. 

"What are you going to do?"

Roan answers, "Make it so you can't touch yourself."

I bite back my frustrated moan, fully aware that my punishment could be much harsher. Skeins of rope in hand, Roan walks around the side of the bed by my head, then slides the pillows out from behind me so that I lie flat on my back. He snaps his fingers and without a second thought, I reach above and offer my wrists for binding. He's as skilled as Bellamy in the art of restraints, quickly fashioning cuffs and wrapping them around my wrists. While he attaches the cuffs to a fastener above my head, Bellamy's forearms rest heavily over my thighs, keeping them spread open.

I huff, "If I can't touch myself, do you have to keep my legs apart like this?"

Bellamy tilts his head, "Just because you can't touch, doesn't mean we won't." He gently massages my outer labia, rolling the swollen flesh between his fingers. I let go a shuddered sigh at the velvety softness of his tongue as it bathes my cunt.

Roan's smooth voice interrupts my reverie, "Your hands, little one. How do they feel?"

I stretch my fingers, fan them out without issue. I test the strength of the knots that bind my wrists together, then pull against the fastener that keeps my hands solidly above my head.

"They're good. No pinching, pain or numbness."

"Good. Now turn over and lie on your stomach." Bellamy assists me as I roll to face the mattress, legs unfairly spread apart. My upper arms cage my head, my biceps pressed to my ears, muffling the sounds around me. This is already unpleasant. I feel the mattress shift as Bellamy rises and leaves the bed. Their voices are low as they converse, too quiet for me to discern their words, even when I bend my elbows away from my ears. I let the nondescript sounds lull me to a calm state. 

I'm startled by the dip of the mattress near my feet. I swallow a whimper at the thought of Bellamy's hands anchored to the bed, his face a picture of pleasure while Roan works him over. A grunt escapes my fiance and my heart picks up speed at the sound of his pleasure. I lift my head in an effort to see them, but my current positioning makes that all but impossible.  Oh, I see what they did here.

Goddammit.

My frustrated groan draws amused laughs from the men at my feet. One one hand, I'm fuming at the denial. They both know I want to watch this, and in that regard, this is a uniquely effective method of punishment. But I can play this game, too. Honestly, Bellamy should know better. Sound can get me off just as powerfully as visual stimulation. I slowly draw my legs back together and bite back a victorious laugh when my inner thighs meet.

Bellamy's satisfied growl hangs thick in the air and I slowly flex the muscles in my ass and thighs, desperate for friction, but not wanting to reveal my self-pleasuring efforts. The drawn-out clench feels good. Really, really good. I relax a moment, then tighten again, slow. I steadily repeat the action as Bellamy's aroused noises surround me in the best way. I feel my slick arousal - my body's traitorous reaction to the humiliation of being tied down and denied - pushed farther down my thighs with every clench of my muscles. The slippery movement is stimulating in a new way, and I flex a little faster, reveling in the slick sensation of my pussy lips as they slide along and cradle my still-swollen clit. A naughty thrill coils in my core and my hips grind into the mattress of their own accord. The pleasure draws a throaty cry from my throat and I realize too late that I failed to silence myself.

Without so much as a warning - not even a disappointed sigh - my legs are wrenched apart, denying me the friction I so desperately need. I lie there, tense, ready for the harsh reprimand I'm due. And I wait. And wait.

For nothing.

Confusion and irritation build up inside me as the cool air of the room licks at my wet folds. A petulant growl forms in my throat as the sticky arousal dries on my thighs. My muscles flex furiously underneath Bellamy's hands where they pin my legs to the bed. I hear Bellamy's amused huff, but nothing else, and _fuck_ , his silence is worse than the denial of touch. He won't even admonish me for my defiance? He's just going to ignore me? What the fuck kind of discipline- _ohhhh_... 

As if he can sense the exact moment I put the pieces together, he speaks up, voice smug. "What kind of lesson would it be if I gave you exactly what you wanted?" He's right. Ignoring me is evidently quite effective in getting my attention. I acknowledge his cleverness with a defeated grumble

He keeps my legs forced apart, anchoring his elbows into the mattress below them, while his hands inch up my inner thighs. His thumbs come to rest on each side of my pussy, then he slowly pulls my lips fully apart.

Oh, no.

Bellamy's breath is hot against my cunt when he laughs, "Jesus, look how fucking wet she is." My cheeks burn with the truth of his assessment.

Roan huffs behind him, "Why am I not surprised?"

Bellamy asks me, "He really shouldn't be surprised, should he, Princess?"

I shake my head with a groan, digging my forehead into the sheets below me as Bellamy's fingers casually dip into my opening to gather the humiliating evidence. He spreads it over my pussy lips, then allows them to close again as his hands draw back from my center. "I think we'll have to see how much wetter you can get." Bellamy's palms slide back down my legs and come to rest on the back of my calves, umoving, like heavy weights atop them. And just like that, they ignore me again.

I hear the lid to the lube bottle snap shut. How far will they go while I'm still tied down and unable to see them? Bellamy wouldn't let Roan actually _fuck him_ without letting me watch, would he? His fingers flinch against my legs with a grunt, digging into my flesh as his noise morphs into a groaning sigh.

"Fuck, this is as tight as I remember, B." Roan's voice rings in my ears. "Anyone else fuck you since me?"

Bellamy huffs a strained laugh, "No... no one after you."

"Should I be offended?" Roan laughs, self-depracating, "Was it really that bad?"

I can practically hear Bellamy's eye roll, "Fuck you, you know it was good."

"Think you can still handle it?"

"Believe me. I'm good for it." It's true. A new wave of arousal surges through me when I think about the anal play in which we've engaged since the orgy all those months ago, especially in preparation for tonight...

I hear the drag of the bench at the foot of our bed, and I'm overwhelmed with the need to know, what are they doing? This is completely unfair, and I'm about to express as much until I feel Bellamy's hands travel back up my legs, firmly massaging my hamstrings in a determined path to my ass. He kneads the muscle in his strong fingers, digs his thumbs in and spreads my cheeks apart to expose my own puckered hole.

Excitement and lust weave together in my throat as I growl out, "Oh, fuck, yes..." My cheeks clench and unclench in succession while he holds them apart, then flicks his tongue quickly over that forbidden place. My body barely has time to register the zing of pleasure before he does it once more, then pulls away.

"Knees and shoulders, Princess." Bellamy gives my ass a quick squeeze then helps me rise to the position. My hands still bound above my head, I spread my knees apart to maintain balance, a position that denies any friction from my thighs while displaying my dripping cunt for his viewing pleasure. I curl my head down so I can peek between my legs for just a moment before Bellamy catches on. "Eyes closed. Do we need to blindfold you?" The question is stated simply, not as a threat, just an inquiry.

I consider for a moment before answering, "No, Sir. I'll keep them closed."

"Good girl." I feel his breath huff against the base of my spine as he licks a broad stripe up each of my ass cheeks. His hands come to grab them, landing on my skin with a sharp slapping sound that jolts me into a heightened state of anticipation. He kneads at the flesh, spreading my cheeks apart, then pushing them together again. He repeats the action over and over, exposing me for mere seconds at a time. Just long enough for me to register his warm breath agaist my most vulnerable place before covering it up again. I'm going to lose my fucking mind if he doesn't do something soon. 

Bellamy chuckles, his breath torturous against my skin, "Need something?" I squirm and mumble something unintelligible, not wanting to voice the obscene act I desire. But _fuck_ , I want it.

"Oh god, please..." My hands clasp together, gripping harshly in my perverse prayer. I squeal at the brief sink of his teeth into the side of my cheek.

"Use your words. Tell me what you want." He squeezes my ass cheeks again and holds them apart this time, awaiting my answer. I feel his thumb stretch down and dip into my cunt to gather my arousal. I tense up as he paints it over my other hole, then gently blows puffs of air over the sensitive flesh, chilly against the wetness.

I whisper, "Your tongue... please..."

Rimming has been a much-appreciated addition to our sexual repertoire. While the sensation of his fingers against and inside my ass is immensely pleasurable, the tongue is a whole different experience. It's... softer, yet the intimacy of the act makes the sensation so much more intense.

Roan reminds me, "Come on, little one. Be specific. Dirty."

As if the command pulls the words directly from my throat, I call out, "I want your tongue on my ass, and in my ass. Please, Sir. I want you to rim me." My voice lurches as Bellamy spreads my cheeks even wider.  He chuckles, then I feel the wet slide of his tongue as it trails down the base of my spine. I can't suppress my excited squeal as he grazes the cleft between my ass cheeks. Then finally, _finally,_ he's there where I need him. I moan at the decadent slide of his tongue around that forbidden area. A renewed shiver of pleasure shoots through me and has me arching my back, presenting more of myself to him.

Bellamy grunts against my skin as his tongue swirls around my hole. I hear Roan's muffled growl, and Bellamy's fingers tense up. He digs harshly into my flesh, and it dawns on me that I'm not the only one on the receiving end of pleasure. A bolt of unbridled lust surges through me at the thought.

"Oh my god, Bell, is he rimming you, too?"

"Mmm hmm" He answers after a moment with a pleasured growl. He lifts his head away, "Just like this." He swirls his tongue again.

"Oh _god_ , fuck, dammit..." Strings of obscenities fall from my lips at the realization that Bellamy is showing me, making me feel exactly what he's feeling. It's incredibly erotic to embrace this pleasure together. I groan at the wet glide that starts at my slit, then swirls around my hole and back down again. He stiffens his tongue against my ass a little more with each pass, then starts to push in.

"Fucking fuck... that's-" I can't piece together a sentence beyond outbursts of pleasured cries. My voice trembles at the decadence of his tongue as it breaches the outer boundary, putting a gentle stretch on the rim and lighting up every nerve ending in my body. He continues to tongue me, not pushing into my ass, instead massaging the furrow between the inner and outer rings of muscle. In our play, we've learned that the small area is an incredibly powerful pleasure zone. But rather than causing some energizing amp of sensation, the effect is a profoundly pleasurable relaxation.

With a calm exhale, I consciously relax the outer sphincter, but the inner one is an involuntary muscle. One can't consciously control its state of relaxation, but it can be trained to accept stimulation. I've spent a good deal of time with anal plugs, adapting to and embracing the sensations that come as that inner boundary is breached. Each larger plug caused a painful sensation at first, but with practice, the pain quickly subsided and the stretch became immensely pleasureable.

Over the past weeks, Bellamy has made the same preparations. The expectation from the beginning has been that Roan will fuck Bellamy, but we are acutely aware that anal sex without "training" the inner ring to a pliable state is heinously painful, especially with a well-endowed partner or particularly rigid shaft. I don't even want to imagine how painful it would be to be penetrated by a full-sized dildo without extensive preparation. Hell, the entire first fuck can be agonizing if not well-prepared. It's not like we'll be repeating this experience regularly, so we want this time to count, so to speak.

Tingles settle over my whole body as his stiffened tongue massages the inner ring open, just slightly.

"Oh my god," Tears come to my eyes, a reaction I don't fully understand and can't control, but it isn't unwelcome. I don't feel pain. I don't feel scared. I'm simply overwhelmed in the best way by the intensity of sensations that journey through me. Bellamy sinks a finger into my wet cunt while he rubs my clit with his thumb at an agonizingly slow pace.

"Please, Sir, more..." I don't know what I'm asking for, really. Just _something._

"What do you need?" Bellamy asks. His own voice bobs at the end of his question. His tongue returns to my ass, gently working it open.

"Fuck-" I growl out when he licks a firm circle along the inside of my exposed hole. "I need another finger, Sir." I'm inordinately proud of myself for stringing together a coherent sentence. "Please, in my pussy..."

I release a shuddered cry at his second finger as it stretches the wet walls of my cunt. Bellamy grunts, and I shiver at the warmth of his breath over my ass. Then, as if tripped, he surges forward with a sharp exhale, causing him to sink farther into my ass, widening over the slightly thicker part of the tongue. The unexpected and sudden stimulation nearly sends me into climax, but with deep and controlled breaths, I manage to hold it back. A whimper escapes me at the emptiness left behind when Bellamy pulls away. His fingers remain inside my cunt, their stretch a constant and pleasurable reminder of their presence. With his free hand, he smooths his palm up the outside of my thigh until it comes to rest on the flare of my hip. 

"That was so good, holding it in for us." Bellamy's voice isn't exactly shaky, but it's far from his usual controlled quality.

I nod, my breaths still heavy, my control still precarious. "Thank you."

Roan clears his throat from behind us and I feel the bed shift as Bellamy rises to his knees to chat with him. I'm again unable to hear the details of their conversation but I find I'm more willing by the minute to just let go. To stop trying to predict what's next. They'll take care of me. With a sigh, I let my head fall into the mattress below me. Just as I feel myself start to slip into a daydream of sorts, Bellamy crooks his fingers inside of me. I give him a dirty moan as he guides my hips side to side with just his large fingers in my cunt.

"You still with us?"

I grin lazily, "Mmm hmm... Just comfy."

Bellamy chuckles, amused, "Comfy, huh?" It's probably not the first word one would use to describe this lewd position - My wrists tied helplessly above me, my head and shoulders pressed into the bed with my ass perched in the air, knees spread apart so my cunt and ass are on obscene display. But Bellamy is a soothing and relaxing presence, and comfort is exactly what he gives me.  

Roan comes around and detaches the rope restraints from the bed, then deftly unties the knots to free my wrists. I stretch and roll my hands to stimulate the joints. The mattress dips behind me as Bellamy gets back on the bed.

"Hands and knees, Princess." Bellamy's voice lights up my nerves as I push up on my hands, assuming the position without a moment's hesitation. I keep my eyes closed and invite my other senses to form a picture of my surroundings. My body shivers at the wet drag of his lips up the column of my spine. I drop my head between my shoulders, gasping at the gust of cool air against the sweat-soaked nape of my neck. I feel Bellamy's satisfied grunt when he attaches his mouth to the newly bared skin. His hands glide along my sides to my front and he wraps his arms around my torso, just under my breasts. He holds my body flush against his and brings me with him as he rises to his knees. His cock bobs against my backside, and I can't resist the urge to squirm against it. 

"Princess..." Bellamy growls in warning. I hear Roan's disembodied chuckle from elsewhere in the room but pay it no mind beyond an internal smirk at the ease with which I can take Bellamy to the edge of his control.     

I drop my head back against Bellamy's solid shoulder. "I'm sorry." My shaky apology is accepted by the kisses he presses to the exposed line of my neck.  His hands cup my breasts, kneading at them gently at first. They grow heavy with need as he squeezes them harder, and I can't fight a needy moan when he traps my tender nipples between his fingers.

"Come on, let us hear you." He goads.

My shriek is shockingly loud when he twists and tweaks them, the pain offset by the soft fan of his breath down my neck as he chuckles in delight. Each twist is like a live wire straight to my throbbing clit.

"Oh god, that's- fuck!" I lose my words when he pulls my nipples away from my body, and I can feel his wicked grin against my skin.

"What was that?"

I shake my head, "I don't... I don't know."

He huffs a laugh and turns me around to face him.

"Open your eyes." I'm met with Bellamy's gentle smile. He tilts his head, "Go to the floor, and get on your knees." With an excited nod, I comply. Roan comes to stand in front of me and Bellamy directs, "Get him hard for me, Princess..." I sit back on my heels and without preamble, I take his cock in my mouth, straight into my throat, then back off again. A string of profanities falls from his mouth when I scratch my nails down his abdomen and thighs as I pump him a few times with my mouth, then down my throat again. I find myself incredibly relaxed, able to swallow around his cock for even longer than before. Goosebumps erupt over my body at the sweep of fingers along my neck as Bellamy comes behind me and gathers my hair into his hands.

"Look up at me, Princess." I sigh at the blissful sting of my scalp when Bellamy gives my hair a tug. Roan's cock falls from my lips and I give Bellamy a filthy grin while I crane my neck to see him. With a mischievous smirk, he pulls my head back even farther and a thrill shudders through my body when he tells me, "Give me your tongue."

As commanded, I stick my tongue out as he holds my head still and slowly glides his cock over my face, dragging it along my tongue from tip to base until I can take his balls in my mouth.  I feel a set of hands gently grasp my shoulders, balancing me so I don't fall backwards as I gently draw Bellamy's balls into my mouth, one at a time. The lustful groans from above have my thighs clenching, my cunt desperate for more. As if reading my mind, I feel the blissful scratch of Roan's leg hair as it grazes the bare lips of my pussy.

"Oh, fuck," I breathe out when I release Bellamy's balls. My hips roll forward along Roan's leg and I release a harsh moan at the blissful contact.

"That's right... You can fuck yourself on his leg, Princess." I grin, not that anyone can see it. "Make your cunt feel good while you take my cock again."  I nod and he draws his cock back over my face so the tip of it pops inside my open mouth. I arch my back to give my head just the right angle, and thank God someone is there to hold me steady when Bellamy drives his cock deep into my throat. An inverted blow job is one of Bellamy's favorite things, even more so when I'm helplessly on my knees, literally bent over backwards while he fucks my face... My mind just drifts away while my body seeks pleasure, my hips rolling back and forth over Roan's well-placed shin.

I'm brought back to reality by Bellamy's rough moan as he pulls out of my mouth and straightens my head. Roan wipes away the dribbles of saliva from my lips and chin while Bellamy's fingers knead a gentle massage into my neck. "Fuck, Princess, you've got my cock so goddamn hard." I smile at the praise. "And look how hard you've made him."

Roan wraps his hand under his cock, as if to feel its weight in his hands. "You've done real good, little one." 

"Thank you, Sir," I manage to rasp out, clearing my throat a few times as it recovers from the invasion of two gorgeous cocks. Roan holds his hand out and helps me stand back up.  The world tilts a bit on its axis for a fraction of a second the blood flow returns to my lower legs.

"You doing alright?" Roan asks, concern in his eyes as he helps me balance.

I regain steady footing and nod, "I'm good. Real good."

He checks me over one more time, his eyes dark with lust, but the concern still evident. Satisfied, he nods, "Okay."

Bellamy gets back on the bed and directs me to follow him onto the mattress. Roan places a small fabric-covered positioning wedge behind me.  

"Lie back, now." Bellamy holds onto my hand and I lean back until I'm arched over the wedge that lies underneath my ass. I straighten my legs out a little bit and he kneels between them. He smiles as he reaches down and runs his palms along my sides, his hands dry against the thin sheen of sweat on my skin. Warmth radiates from his large hands, one wrapped around each of my arms. He looms over me while he stretches them out above my head. Shivers shoot through me at the dance of his fingers down my arms and over my chest. He grins at the way my stomach twitches as he trails over it on a tantalizing path down to my legs. He hooks his hands under my knees and bends them. 

"Spread your legs all the way open for me, Princess." They instantly drop open and he presses them obscenely wide, exposing me again to his and Roan's approving gazes.  His heavy cock bobs up and down when he sits back on his heels to take in the view, eyes dark and swimming with greed. With a grin, he grasps the flesh over my mons, massages it to incite more blood flow and increased sensitivity to my cunt. "Look at you." I swallow the urge to squirm as he continues, "Your cunt is so red and swollen already, and we're nowhere near done with it." My arousal seeps out of me when he parts my lips and my skin burns with irrational embarrassment as it trickles down my crack. He dips his fingers into me, just barely, and I feel his breath wash over me with his chuckle as my hips jerk forward **.**

Roan grunts from behind while Bellamy spreads my juices over my entire cunt. "Fuck, B... She's so goddamn wet."

Bellamy lifts his hand away from my cunt and holds it up in display with a smirk, keeps his gaze locked on mine as he rubs the viscous fluid between his thumb and forefinger. "Oh, yeah she is." 

Roan tells me, "You have such a gorgeous cunt, little one." My incoherent mewls appear to please him, as he smiles and continues, "You taste fucking delicious, too."  Roan looks at Bellamy, "You're a lucky man to be able to feast on her any time you want."

Bellamy nods in agreement, "Yeah, I am." He rubs his hands back up along my inner thighs until he settles them in the hollow of my hips.

"Do you let him do that, little one? Can he have you any time he wants?" Roan asks.

Bellamy's hands flinch at the sound of my strangled whine when I consider Roan's question.

Bellamy smacks my thigh, "Use your words, Princess."

I nod frantically, "Yes." 

Roan shakes his head, "Nuh uh, you've gotta be dirty."

Oh god. Bellamy's thumbs inch toward my cunt again, coming to a stop just outside my labia. He pressses in, then pulls them apart again.

My voice cracks, "Yes, he can." Bellamy licks into me as I cry out, "He can have my pussy any way he wants... any time he wants." My head spins with thoughts of Bellamy's obsession with my cunt. Like last week in the kitchen when I was emptying the dishwasher. I stepped past him to put a stack of plates in a cabinet, then just as I closed the door, he hooked a finger in my belt loop and spun me around to face him. I was stunned by the hunger in his eyes as he dropped to his knees, ripped my zipper open and yanked my pants down my legs. I barely got to step out of them before he pulled a thigh over his shoulder and settled his teeth over my panty covered mons. Goosebumps erupt over me when I think about the scrape of the lace against my bare cunt, teasing me until I nearly lost my fucking mind. And just when I thought I couldn't take any more, he tore the flimsy garment off my hips with his teeth. I can still hear the sound of ripping fabric, the limp material tossed to the side as he attached his mouth to my pussy and worked me to a shattering orgasm within minutes.

I repeat with a breathy laugh, "Any time he wants."

"Good girl. "Bellamy's voice crawls up my spine in the best way. He rises to his knees again and asks, "Does your cunt want my cock, Princess?"

I nod with a frantic plea, unable to tear my eyes from his cock, jutting proudly from his frame. "Fuck, yes, please..." A jolt of electricity cracks through my core when he bends forward and glides his tongue teasingly over my clit, then lays wet kisses up my midline until he hovers above me. He covers my mouth with his own and draws me into a dizzying kiss. I don't dare move my arms from where he placed them, but fuck, the urge to tangle my fingers into his hair is strong.

"We're gonna fuck you so good." He says against my lips, then rises again to his knees. I rake my eyes over his body, hard in every way - from his chiseled muscles to the rigid shaft of his cock, gleaming in the light. My breath hitches at the memory of Roan's hand wrapped around Bellamy's cock, stroking him slowly to coat it with lube. My eyes are drawn to his hand, where it rests heavy on my thigh. I'm captivated by the rich brown color of his skin, the way it contrasts with the light tone of my own.

"You ready?" He asks and my eyes snap back to his.

"I'm ready." I give him an indulgent twist of my hips, the way I know makes him crazy with want. With one hand, he parts my pussy lips and my limbs twitch with each slide of his cock against my exposed clit as he coats himself in my wetness. Finally, he lines himself up to my entrance and pushes in just until the head of his cock sits just inside. He rests there and my body thrums with anticipation, toes curled, and breaths quick.

He leans forward, hovers above me and wraps his hands around my wrists, then pushes in. I cry a relieved sound as my swollen walls part of him while he sinks into me.

"Fuck," he chokes out as he bottoms out inside me. The heavy, rumbling growl of his voice sinks through me, all the way into my bones.  "You feel so goddamn good." The sweat-soaked skin of my back clings to the fabric underneath me, dragging it up with my body as Bellamy moves within me. He plants his hands on the mattress, giving himself leverage to grind his pubic bone against my clit, punctuating his words, "So. Fucking. Good."

The motion floods my body with bliss, my voice wobbling with lust when I cry out, "Bellamy!" I quickly correct myself, "I'm sorry, I mean Sir-"

He huffs, "That's better." 

"Fuck-" I'm cut off by my own lecherous wail when he tweaks my nipple and grinds again. My legs squeeze inward, but his knees are parted between my own, forcing me to stay wide open. He descends again and my body lights up as the broad plane of his chest scrapes against my beaded nipples.

"Relax, Princess," He chokes out when I tighten around his cock. I nod and do my best to release the tension from my body. He smiles while he gently sweeps my hair away from my face. "Good." He breathes, "That's good." My cunt quivers at his lewd approval. He comes lower, frames my head with his forearms on each side. I'm trapped in his gaze as he hovers above me, lips parted, eyes heavy and dark with lust. His shallow breaths fan over my face as he settles into the cradle of my hips. 

My breath hitches in surprise when Roan's hand comes up to rest on Bellamy's shoulder. I was so quickly and deeply lost in Bellamy that I nearly forgot about our third party. He squeezes Bellamy's shoulder, then massages a path down his back, gently pushing his body into mine with each kneading press of his hand. Bellamy's fingers unclench next to my head and I feel the rest of his tension drain out of him with a sigh. His eyelids flutter until he closes them completely, then drops his head forward. To my relief, he doesn't object when I bring my hands down to tangle my fingers in his curls. His breath is hot against my skin when he sighs, satisfied, his lips just barely touching the side of my neck.

"Little one," Roan says. "Give me your hands." I do as directed, and Roan guides them to Bellamy's toned ass. His strong muscles flex under my greedy fingers as I fan them out and knead at his flesh. Bellamy rests his forehead on mine for a moment. I give him a particularly strong squeeze around his cock. With a groan, he tangles his fingers in my hair and tugs for my attention, drawing me into a deep, slow kiss.  Roan's voice brings me back, "Can you use your fingers to spread him apart for me?"

I grin against Bellamy's lips. "Yes, Sir." I reply as I dig my fingers into his ass cheeks, pulling them apart as directed by Roan. 

"Fuck," Bellamy sighs into my mouth. "That's a good girl... You're so good, baby."

I hear the snapping sounds of the lube bottle opening then closing, the rip of a condom wrapper, the groaning shift of the mattress... I crane my neck to see what's happening, but my efforts are in vain, so I instead focus on Bellamy... His eyes become hooded, then slam closed as his hands twitch against my scalp. I trace my eyes over his lips, full and soft, slightly parted, short pants of air coming through them to fan over my skin. Bellamy groans, the sound both relieved and wanting, and a gasp escapes me at the twitch of his cock inside me.

"Oh my god..." The breathless quality of my voice is almost embarrasing. "Is he gonna fuck you now?"

Bellamy chuckles, "Not yet, Princess."

Roan laughs from behind, "Soon, little one."

I nod, "Okay, I know... slow and steady..." The backs of Roan's knuckles occasionally graze my hands where I maintain my grip on Bellamy's ass cheeks. Bellamy's grunts turn into pleasured sighs when Roan's palms rest over my fingers. His hands have been hard at work, massaging and stretching Bellamy open, preparing him for this. Both his index fingers are inside Bellamy, holding him open. Roan's cock brushes my knuckles a few times as it finds its way to Bellamy's hole and _oh my fucking god..._

Bellamy groans, loud, as Roan pushes in, just slightly, then pauses a moment. He drops his head down and nuzzles my neck, his breaths heavy against my skin while he adjusts to the intrusion. After a minute, Bellamy nods and Roan pushes in a little more.

"Oh, fuck..." Bellamy growls. The sound reverberates through me and my fingers start to lose their grip on Bellamy's ass.

"You can let go, little one. I'll take it from here." Roan reassures me. I slowly release his skin and Roan replaces them with his own. They're much stronger, steadier, as he holds Bellamy's cheeks apart and continues to work himself deeper into Bellamy. I stretch my fingers out as my hands make their way to Bellamy's sides.

I turn my face and press my lips to the angle of his jaw. "Does it feel good?" 

Bellamy nods, blows out a chest full of air. "Yeah, it feels fucking good. _You_ feel good... This is... Fuck..." His voice lurches when Roan is finally buried to the hilt. A soft gust of air hits my skin, as if that final bit of penetration pushed his breath out of his chest. I glide my hands up and down his sides while he adjusts fully to Roan's intrusion.

My whispered words linger, "Tell me what it's like. I wanna know."

Bellamy grunts, "It's... filling. Like nothing else." After a moment he goes on, "It's so fucking intense."

I can't fight the greedy excitement in my voice, "Jesus fucking christ, I can't wait to feel your cock in my ass, babe... can't fucking wait."

"I know, Princess. I know. It's gonna be fucking incredible." He groans, a filthy sound. "Your ass is gonna be so goddamn tight around me, isn't it?"

I nod with a sharp inhale, "Yeah, it is."

His lips graze the shell of my ear and he brands his words into my skin, "I'm gonna take you in a way no one ever has, Princess." He brings his hand to my ass and grasps a cheek with a firm squeeze just to reinforce his point. "Your ass is mine, you hear me?" An overwhelming jolt of lust overtakes my body at his filthy words.

"Oh. My. God." I nod, breathless and greedy for him to make good on his promise.

Roan has held his position for a while, waiting for Bellamy to adjust to his sizable intrusion. His hands occasionally brush mine as he massages up and down Bellamy's torso. He smirks down at the two of us. "Look at her, B. She's fucking begging for it." He grasps Bellamy's ass cheeks again, his hands landing on his skin with a slap. "But really, how have you not fucked her ass already?"

I give Roan a grin, "An egregious oversight, right?"

Bellamy tugs my hair by the crown and gives me a warning growl that fills me with need. "Watch it, Princess..." Even in his stern tone, I can hear a bit of amusement. "What did I tell you about running your mouth in here?" My pebbled nipples graze his chest with my sharp inhale, drawing a needy whimper out of me. The room goes fuzzy while my eyelids flutter closed. 

Roan chuckles, "How about we give her something else to moan about."

"Fuck, yes." Bellamy affirms as he attaches his lips to my neck to suck a path of bruising kisses along my collar bone. 

Roan swivels his hips a little, and the motion pushes Bellamy forward into me. My eyes snap back open in surprise while my body absorbs the most pleasurable chain reaction. With Bellamy's face buried in the crook of my neck, I watch Roan's face turn ravenous as he rakes his eyes over Bellamy, then me. By the time he locks his gaze with mine, the heat in his eyes is surely reflected in my own.

Bellamy pulls his face away from my neck and looks down at me. "We're gonna move, now."

I nod eagerly, "Please, come on."

Bellamy nods and signals something at Roan, who grinds forward again. My legs, by instinct, raise up to wrap around Bellamy's back, but I quickly realize that's not feasible.

"Oh god," I choke out, the air forced from my lungs. Each forward movement by the men has a dual effect.  Roan's push into Bellamy drives him into me, pulling a pleasured gasp from my lungs at the drag of his cock so deep inside me.

"Feel good?" Bellamy asks.

I nod, "Fuck, yes!" My voice bobs when they drive into me again. My legs again attempt to wrap around Bellamy, but have nowhere to land, so they flail to the side. I plant my heels in the mattress, but the awkward position still makes it difficult to gain any leverage.

"Hold up," Bellamy tells Roan. He maneuvers my legs so my thighs cage my breasts, then rests my calves against his shoulders. "Try that, Princess." I use this newfound and much appreciated leverage to swivel my hips in a circle. He huffs, "Good, Just like that. Try it again." This time, he leans forward to practically fold me in half, and the effect is marvelous.

"Holy fuck!" My throat protests my cries.

"Atta girl," Roan encourages. Bellamy smirks at my responding whimper as he lifts his weight off of my legs. Roan's thrusts drive Bellamy into me, over and over. I meet their movements with a twist of my hips and the effect is fucking magical. Bellamy's cock fills me, each thrust forcing my flesh open with his girth. His fingers dig into me when I tighten myself around him so my walls clinging wetly to his cock. The tingling in my cunt moves down my legs and up my spine. Droplets of sweat gather on Bellamy's face and drip onto his nose, where I catch the salty liquid with my tongue. I draw in a sharp breath when his thumb meets my clit. A sweet pleasure stirs within, builds in my core, and my desperate cries take on a new level of need. I squeeze around him again, this time with even more vigor. It does not go unnoticed by Bellamy.

"Oh, you like that?" Bellamy asks with a hint of amusement. I nod with a wordless moan, and Bellamy shakes his head. His tone is somehow both desperate and commanding. "Use your words."

"Fuck, yes!" I manage to choke out. He swipes his thumb side to side over my clit, his touch sending sparks of pleasure from my center to every nerve on in my body. "Oh my god, right there, please-"

"You wanna come, Princess?"

I nod, barely able to get out a desperate cry, "Please!"

He bends forward, fully crushing my thighs to my chest, and growls against my neck, "Come for me."

At his demand, the bliss coiled up inside breaks free and rushes through me. My body goes rigid with the currents of pleasure that scatter over my skin and through my veins. My orgasm is accented with the burning stretch of my leg muscles as Bellamy pushes them taut in just the right way while I fall apart beneath him.

As I come back down, I'm surrounded by Bellamy's appreciative groans while Roan massages his back. The stretch on my hamstrings intensifies again as Roan bends forward to wrap an arm around Bellamy's front. Bellamy's cock slips out of me and my legs fall slack while Roan pulls him to his knees. I slide the wedge out from behind my back and move it up under my head, then relax into it and watch the men with contented lust.  The scene before me is impossibly erotic. Roan holds Bellamy, flush against his chest and lays kisses on his body, everywhere he can reach. Some gentle, some wet, some bruising. Each and every one hot as fuck.

Roan nips at Bellamy's earlobe, "Your Princess is watching, B." Bellamy opens his eyes and rakes them over my sprawled-out body. 

Bellamy nods once, "That she is." His voice is wrecked in the best way.

Roan guides one of Bellamy's arms up to loop around the back of his neck, allowing his other to wander freely over his own body. Bellamy gives a wordless grunt as he draws his hand across his chest and down his abdomen. I whimper at a jolt of pain that radiates from my lip, but that's the last thought I can spare for my abused flesh when Bellamy's hand grazes his own throbbing cock.

Roan chuckles at the strangled whine that escapes me. "I think she likes what she sees." 

Wanting a better view, I scramble to my knees in front of Bellamy. I take his free arm in my curious hands and press it to his side, allowing an unfettered view of his front. My pulse races as I take in Bellamy's lust-filled expression. Head leaning back against Roan's shoulder, he peels into me with his dark eyes like he's ready to fucking eat me alive.

"God, look at you," I sigh as I glide my fingers over the hard planes of his body. I marvel at the twitch of his muscles as I pass over them. I sit back on my heels and my eyes widen as Bellamy's body presses forward. A gasp escapes me when Roan fucks into Bellamy, making his body surge with each push. His cock weeps more pre come, somehow becoming even stiffer as it juts out from his beautiful frame. As Roan quickens his movements, Bellamy's cock slaps against his abdomen, and it is quite possibly the hottest fucking thing I have ever seen.

Bellamy's eyes fall shut and my hand sneaks between my legs but I hiss at the touch, still far too sensitive for direct contact. I settle for watching greedily as I commit the image to memory. Roan looks me in the eye and nods down at Bellamy, a silent command to touch him again. 

I rise back to my knees and brush my hand along his thighs and up his abdomen, neglecting his cock, its tip deep-red and throbbing. I crack a small smile at the way his hips chase my touch. I drag my eyes up to his face again and take in his beatific expression. His kiss-swollen lips are parted, his dark eyes hooded and unfocused, he's in his own world of pleasure right now. I cup his cheek with one hand and angle his face down so it hovers just in front of mine. Eyes open and watching him, I flick my tongue over his lips while my other hand _finally_ wraps around his needy cock.

Then it's like Bellamy comes alive. He surges forward with a loud groan, one hand suddenly behind my head and crushing my lips to his in a desperate, needy, _utterly_ _devastating_ kiss. He lets out shuddering growl, a sound that reverberates deep in my bones. His fingers tangle in my hair, tugging on my scalp as come erupts from his cock in pulsing spurts, landing hot and sticky between us.

I lean back to look at him, astounded. "Oh my god... That's so fucking hot..." Bellamy's eyes are closed, his breaths heavy and panting as he absently nods. If I didn't know better, I would think he was ready to tap out for the night. But I don't think he's ready to give up just yet...

"Fuck, Clarke," He breathes. The sound of my actual name is almost jarring. I find it interesting when his Dominant persona slips away.  He pulls my face back to his and draws me into another kiss. He breaks away again, presses his forehead to mine with another curse, "Just, fuck." 

I grin against this lips, "Yeah..." My body shivers at the drag of Bellamy's fingers up my spine. I attach my lips to his neck, taking the opportunity to get a good look at Roan behind him.  As if summoned, the man looks me straight in the eye. His muscles ripple with his movements, glistening in the low light. His thrusts become erratic, his face twisted with pleasure as he nears climax. With a lecherous moan, I suck harder at Bellamy's neck as Roan pulls out. He tears off the condom and takes his cock in his fist. My eyes are glued to the determined movement of his hand as he strokes himself.

I draw back from Bellamy's neck and whisper, "Turn around." He follows my gaze until he sets eyes on Roan, who falls back on his heels with a gratified growl as his climax finally shoots through him. Bellamy and I sigh in unison at the thick globs of come that seep from his throbbing cock. It doesn't spurt out like jets. Rather, it slowly erupts, like thick white lava, spilling out of his slit and down his thick shaft. I can't suppress my choked whimper when I watch the pearlescent fluid pool at the webbing between his thumb and index finger. Roan's face is a mask of pleasure - eyes hooded, jaw slack, breaths heavy as he comes back down.

Bellamy pivots to face Roan, dropping a low _hmm_ from his lips, and wraps his hand around Roan's wrist. He slowly, purposefully pulls it away from his cock and brings the come-covered hand to his lips. He narrows his eyes, like a silent challenge for Roan to stop him. They don't break eye contact as Bellamy closes his lips over the side of Roan's hand, cleaning the sticky fluid off of his skin. Roan lets go a growl when Bellamy teasingly sinks his teeth into the flesh between his thumb and forefinger.

I whisper against Bellamy's ear as he releases Roan's hand, "Oh god, that was so hot..."

He turns to face me again and his soft laugh washes over my cheeks before he captures my lips with a kiss. I bring my hand up to his face, only to realize that it's still sticky with his come. With a grin, I break away and bring my hand to my lips. He growls at the bat of my eyelashes as I slowly lick each finger clean.

"Fuck..."

I nod, "I'm down with that, but let's take a breather." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> End Notes:
> 
> Kayla, don’t punch me through the internet, your DP is coming. I swear. 
> 
> Yes. There is more coming (pun most definitely intended). Remember how I had said last chapter that this threesome had to be split into two chapters because it was getting too long and intense? Well… I lied. I was supposed to wrap it up with this chapter, but it hit 17k words and I’m like… this is too intense… So you guys get to take a breather right along with them while I finish off the finale to this Boanlarke debauchery. Yes, it’s mostly done. But that’s what I said about THIS chapter, and then I kept adding things, and my promise to update “soon” turned out to be a bald faced lie… 
> 
> Really, I truly appreciate your patience. The start of the school year slowed things down significantly, writing-wise, but as we settle into the routine, I find more pockets of time in which I can write and update fics. But real life has to come first. Again, thank you for your patience! 
> 
> Anyway, I had more to write here and I’m drawing an actual blank here… 
> 
> I say it every time, and I’ll keep saying it: **Your COMMENTS are so important!** Like I said in the beginning notes, they are an irreplaceable form of motivation and pick-me-up when I’m in a block or a funk. I sincerely appreciate each and every one of them! And if You’re awaiting a response, it’s on its way! Please, please, keep commenting!!! I love knowing what you guys think, answering questions, getting feedback, and learning bits about you guys as well.  
>  And hit that KUDOS button if You’re enjoying this! New kudos put big smiles on my face!!!
> 
>  
> 
> I'm on [tumblr](http://missemarissa.tumblr.com) (@missemarissa) now and then - come talk with me :)


	57. i know you've thought about it

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bellamy huffs a laugh against my skin. "Alright... Lie down, then," then presses on my chest. I go without protest and he flops down next to me. On my other other side, Roan stretches out on his back, folding one hand behind his head while the other rests on his chest, rising and falling with each heavy breath. Bellamy laces his fingers in my far hand and draws my arm across his body, rolling me on my side to face him. I pull myself closer with a contented sigh.
> 
> I clear my throat. "So, have you given any thought to Roan's... suggestion?" Bellamy's skin jumps under my fingers as I drag them up his body until my hand settles on the side of his neck.
> 
> His brows draw together, "What suggestion?"
> 
> I brush my thumb along his cheek, "Come on, you know..." My grin must be nothing short of obscene before I nip playfully at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, we wrap up the boanlarke threesome! This became much longer (and more intense) than I originally anticipated, but I'm happy with how it all came out :) these have been among my favorite chapters to write for UE. 
> 
> I truly appreciate all your enthusiasm and encouragement. Your comments have been truly motivating, and I feel really blessed to have such supportive readers! 
> 
> And getting real here, I'm seriously anxious as hell about posting this chapter because the large majority of it is anal, which has been hinted at for a long while... Well, I've finally delivered. There just isn't a lot of anal smut in this fandom and I'm really hoping not to scare everyone away by having it here... 
> 
> A huge thank you to [Amber](http://bilexualclarke.tumblr.com) for her excellent beta work.  
> And [Maggie](http://bellohmyblake.tumblr.com), I blame you for at least half of this. Probably.  
> And [Kayla](http://Raincityruckus.tumblr.com), you've been requesting DP for God knows how long now... Don't say I never give you nice things ;) 
> 
> **TW**  
> As mentioned above, Anal is the central element here. But this is classy anal. Because that's how I roll, thank you.

_"_ _Fuck..."_

_I nod, "I'm down with that, but let's take a breather."_

Bellamy huffs a laugh against my skin. "Alright... Lie down, then," then presses on my chest. I go without protest and he flops down next to me. On my other other side, Roan stretches out on his back, folding one hand behind his head while the other rests on his chest, rising and falling with each heavy breath. Bellamy laces his fingers in my far hand and draws my arm across his body, rolling me on my side to face him. I pull myself closer with a contented sigh.

I clear my throat. "So, have you given any thought to Roan's... suggestion?" Bellamy's skin jumps under my fingers as I drag them up his body until my hand settles on the side of his neck.

His brows draw together, "What suggestion?"

I brush my thumb along his cheek, "Come on, you know..." My grin must be nothing short of obscene before I nip playfully at him.

"When he talked about eating you out?"

I smirk at Roan's amused huff behind me.

"No." I roll my eyes, "Not that." Bellamy knows exactly what I'm talking about and I'm willing to bet he was thinking about it before I was.

His voice goes low, "You want me to take your ass, tonight?"

"Please..." I curl closer to him, "I even prepared... Just in case." 

“Define ‘prepared’, Princess.”

He cocks an eyebrow when I tell him about the large training plug that I wore all day and the enema I used just before they got here.

“You were planning this all along, weren’t you?”

I shrug with a nod while I draw in a deep breath, "I've been wanting this for so long."

He searches my eyes while his hand draws up my side. "Okay, Princess." His voice is graveled and laced with lust. I don't hold back when he captures my lips in another kiss, this one deep and ravenous. He licks into my mouth with a rousing moan and my body lights up at the taste of his tongue when it brushes against mine. I feel fingers of unfamiliar weight draw over my bare shoulders, gathering my hair away from my skin. A whimper escapes me at the brush of Roan's lips over my shoulder blades, my body shivers at the slide of his tongue up my spine. Bellamy brushes my hair away from my face to press sweet kisses up my cheekbones, then down my jawline. I succumb to the decadent sensations of their hands and lips.

Conscious thought _evaporates_ at the upward scrape of Roan's fingers against the side of my scalp as he gathers more hair. He tugs, baring the long line of my neck to his hungry mouth.

My groan is embarrassingly loud and Bellamy pulls away with a thoroughly amused glint in his eyes. He grins and tilts his head toward Roan, "I probably should've warned you, he can be a little fixated on the neck."

My skin prickles at the waft of Roan's chuckle. As if to prove Bellamy's point, he groans and suckles harder on my sensitive flesh. I'm unable to manage anything beyond a throaty moan in response.  My hand darts up to his head and I tangle my fingers into his long hair to hold him in place. Every second, my craving deepens, and I'm consumed by a need for _more_... Sudden relief floods my body with the sharp sting of his teeth as they sink into my neck. Ripples of heat scatter over my skin with each tug of my flesh into his mouth. I sigh when my skin begins to ripen under the lashing of his tongue. Before I can relax into it, Roan's mouth is replaced by Bellamy's and _oh, yes._.. _That's_ what I need...

His deep growl resonates through my body as he draws Roan's mark into the wet heat of his mouth, making it larger, darker... His. My breaths come fast and heavy, increasingly desperate with each passing second.

Bellamy releases my skin to murmur, "Shhh, baby, settle down."  My eyes flutter open at the soft press of his lips to his new and improved mark. I slow my breaths down, pull in more air with each steady inhale. "That's right, easy now..." My racing pulse slows as I will myself into a calm state. "We want you relaxed for this, yeah?"

I give a slow nod, "Yeah. Relaxed is good..."

He chuckles and cradles my head to his chest. The deep rumble of his voice surrounds me. "We'll take care of you." Roan's hands rub soothing patterns into my body and I melt into the mattress beneath me. "Now, close your eyes, Princess."

I roll onto my stomach when the mattress shifts with Bellamy and Roan's movements. Roan massages my legs in an upward path from my ankles to my thighs. At the same time, Bellamy caresses my scalp, then gently kneads my shoulders and back muscles into a nearly limp state. They both step away briefly and I listen to them shuffle around the room for a few minutes before they return to me.

Bellamy speaks first. "Hands and knees, Princess." He helps me up, but just as I'm up on all fours, he amends his order. "Actually, I want you in knees and shoulders."  I lower my face to the bed with an indulgent groan and press my forehead to the mattress. My hands grip together above me, just like before.

Bellamy slides onto the mattress behind me and narrates the scene before him in filthy detail, the way he knows makes me crazy with want. "Look at you... Fuck, you know I love it when you're on all opened up for me like this." Roan settles at my side. I turn my head to catch a glimpse of his face and I can practically feel the path of his eyes along my lewdly exposed body. He doesn't need to speak. He just remains a solid presence next to me while Bellamy works me over in every way.

Bellamy delicately touches that forbidden place with the pad of his finger. "You feel that, Princess?"

I nod as tingles sweep through my body with each brush, "Yes, Sir."

"That's where I'm going to fuck you."

My entire being trembles with excitement, "Oh my god..."

His strong hands knead at my cheeks, spreading them apart and grazing my sensitive hole with a finger before letting them close. He repeats the motion while he talks, his filthy words falling from his lips and settling through me like they've found a home in my body.

"First, I'm going to fuck you slow... And so deep." The air is forced from my lungs at his vulgar promise. "Do you have any idea how fucking hot this is? How hot you are?" I shake my head and thrust my ass toward him. He huffs, "Fuck... I'm looking at your ass right now, and I'm losing my mind knowing I'm about to fuck it."

I'm so worked up, I can't bring myself to form actual words.

Bellamy slides off the mattress and walks around to the head of the bed. He kneels on the bed in front of me. "Get up on your hands and knees." I do as told, and find his cock just inches away from my face as he strokes himself to full hardness. I draw in a deep breath and take in the musky scent of our sex that clings to his skin. My tongue darts to my lips, ready to taste him in my mouth, but he presses his fingers to my forehead to keep me from moving forward.

He chuckles at my whimper, "Don't worry, you'll get to suck my cock in a moment." He rakes his gaze over my wanton form while he continues to stroke himself. Every tug makes me burn with greed. "But first, I need you to tell me what I'm going to do with it."

"You're going to do whatever you want, Sir."

Roan grunts and his hand snakes between my legs, where his fingers lightly trace my dripping slit.

Bellamy smiles gently, milking his cock for pre-come while he talks, "That's right, Princess, but I need you to be more specific. What exactly am I going to do?"

I duck my head between my shoulders and mumble, irrationally embarrassed, "My ass, Sir." Roan sinks a finger into my cunt and curls it against the front of my walls.

"What am I going to do with your ass, Princess?"

I pick my head back up. "Fuck it... You're going to fuck my ass."

Bellamy smiles with a nod, "That's right." He cradles the side of my face with his free hand, and draws it down to meet his cock. A needy mewl escapes me at the downward brush of his thumb over my lips. My nipples tighten, my breasts ache with need when he catches my chin to press my jaw wide open so I can take him into my mouth. The drag of Roan's fingertips along my side sends my pulse racing. My whole body lights up when he presses his thumb gently to my clit and I groan around Bellamy's cock just before he hits the back of my throat.

"Oh, fuck, that's it... That's a good girl." Well-deserved pride surges through me as he sinks himself deep into my throat. His fingers dig into my scalp, catching strands of hair when he rakes through it. He splays his hand around the back of my head, pressing my face down until my nose is buried in his neatly groomed pubic hair and his balls rest against my chin. His other hand adoringly caresses my hairline. Bellamy breathes, "You're so fucking good, taking my whole cock like this."

"Look at that..." Roan marvels, his voice like music to my ears. "Your body craves his cock more than oxygen."

My throat threatens to spasm at the reminder that I literally cannot breathe with my airway completely obstructed. Bellamy won't let up (I'd be disappointed if he did). Instead, he holds me in place. He massages my scalp with his fingers and soothes, "Shhh, baby.  Just relax your pretty throat for me." His voice is a balm for my nerves. My panic for air subsides after a moment and my mind comes to rest. "That's it. That's perfect."

Just as I start to feel light headed, I swallow purposefully around Bellamy's exquisite invasion, absolutely relishing his strangled moan while my throat massages his cock head. I pull in a desperate breath as soon as my airway is unblocked and Bellamy's eyes go dark with lust at the choked sound. He doesn't pull all the way out, just watches me carefully and gives me enough time to take a breath or two before he takes my throat again.

Roan's voice is hot against my ear. "Fuck you're gorgeous, little one." His grunts and sighs are a brand new and unexpected turn-on. "Giving us everything you have. Taking every fucking thing we give you." His growl is heavy in the air,  "You want it so bad, don't you?" I close my eyes to really _listen,_ to absorb the raspy profanities that roll off his tongue so effortlessly.

Bellamy repeats the action a few more times before he pulls out completely. I bite back a shiver at the wet slap of his cock against his abdomen when it springs from my mouth. He grasps my chin in his fingers, wipes it clean and tilts my head up, then traces his thumb over my lower lip. He presses down gently to separate it from the top one and I gasp as the digit sinks between my parted lips to brush against my tongue. Instinct takes over and I close my lips around it, laving my tongue over the tip and sucking it deeper into my mouth.

He growls, "Fuck, such a good girl...  You know I love fucking your mouth, Princess... To see your eyes wide and your lips stretched tight around my cock... It's fucking incredible." His vulgar words are a stark contrast with the gentle smile on his face. "Let's keep going." He releases my chin and steps away.  I drop my head back between my shoulders with a shaky exhale, wiping the sweat from my forehead onto my bicep.

"Put your head on the mattress again, Princess." I sink back down and Bellamy voices his lewd appreciation. He slides onto the mattress behind me. "That's it... Look at your ass, all propped up and ready to be fucked." A sharp sting radiates from my ass cheek where he sinks his teeth into my skin. His hands grasp and knead insistently to spread my cheeks open. His tongue slides down the cleft of my ass cheeks, then he flicks it against my pink rosebud.

"Fuck, oh fuck-" My shaky cries draw a chuckle out of Roan, who sinks a second finger into my cunt and twists them both inside me. I beg Bellamy, "Please, I want your tongue." He huffs a soft laugh but doesn't tease me long before he breaches the outer boundary. He massages the area just inside, gently but firmly, and a calming warmth spreads from my core through the ends of my fingers and toes. My limbs feel heavy and weak. While he tongues farther inside me, his hands knead at my cheeks again. Roan's fingers move with maddening slowness inside my cunt, and each swirl of Bellamy's lithe tongue inside my muscled ring heightens my desire for more.

As if cued, Bellamy pulls his face away, satisfied with the relaxation attained from his rimming. His finger brushes lightly along and around the wrinkled flesh, over and over. "You ready for my finger, Princess?"

I nod, "Yes, Sir, please."

Then he completely pulls away. I feel the absence keenly, and the snapping sound of the lube bottle cap rings sharp in my ears.

Roan cups my breast in his large hand and squeezes it with agonizing gentleness. I don't bother to contain my needy whine when my body practically screams for more attention, and he fucking delights in my desperation. He slowly presses each finger individually into the curve of flesh, brushes his thumb over my nipple, just enough to tease. 

Bellamy grasps an ass cheek in his free hand and spreads me open again. I give a sharp gasp when his well-lubricated finger returns to my hole. He rubs it against me a few times before he applies light pressure, then releases. My head nods furiously each time he presses against me, and a gratified _"Mmmmmph"_ escapes me as his large digit finally gains entry.

"Goddamn, your ass is tight, Princess..." He sinks in oh-so-slowly. Too slowly. I push my ass back against his finger until it's buried fully inside me. Bellamy chuckles, "Eager, are we?"

A shaky whimper leaves my throat as he twists his finger inside me. I nod, "Yes... Please, I want more."

"More of of what, Princess?"

"I want another finger, Sir."

_"Where_ do you want another finger?" Both he and Roan stop moving their hands, much to my dismay. I thrust my ass toward Bellamy with a whine.

Roan reprimands,  "Nuh uh, use your words, Little One." _Oh. .._

I grin, "Please, I want another finger in my ass, Sir." I hear the lube again, then a second finger meets the puckered hole. I groan as both fingers breach my opening, stretching the boundary, then slowly sink into my ass. I fist my hands into the sheets as Roan scissors his fingers inside my cunt. "Oh god..."

"Fuck, I can't wait 'til this is my cock instead." Bellamy tells me as he stretches his fingers out along my walls. I squeal when I feel the men's fingers graze each other, separated only by the walls of my cunt and ass. "You feel that, Princess?"

I nod, "Yeah, it feels so good."  It's just like the times Bellamy gives me a "mini-DP," sinking a thumb in one hole, and two fingers in the other. The sensation of his digits pressing and rubbing against each other through those thin walls is fucking magical. A lustful groan escapes me when I think about the possessive way he envelops me with his hand when his fingers are lodged in both my openings like that.

Roan presses his thumb to my clit, jolting me back to the present. "You're making some real good sounds, little one... Real good."

I nod, "I was just thinking about when-" I cut myself off with a moan when both men scissor their fingers inside me.

"What were you thinking about, Princess?"

I smile, "When you fill both my ass and my cunt, Sir... It feels so... dominant when you do it."   

Bellamy makes a thoughtful _hmm_ sound. "I'll keep that in mind."  My heart skips a beat with sheer excitement at the implication.

I glance behind me, peeking under my arms from where my head rests on the mattress. Roan uses his free hand to squirt some lube onto Bellamy's other index finger, then drops the bottle so he can grasp my ass cheek and spread me open for Bellamy. I feel two fingers again enter me, one from each hand. I whimper at the strain when Bellamy stretches the boundary of my never-fucked hole, deftly massaging the rim as he opens me wider. A squeak escapes me at the unexpected coolness of the air as it licks at the warm insides of my ass.

Bellamy bends forward and kisses the side of my head. His voice soothes, "Shhh, Princess... You're okay. Just relax for me. " I nod and take a deep breath, allowing the tension in my body to leave with a long exhale. "That's it... You're doing so good." After some more massage and addition of more lube, all traces of pain are gone, replaced by a desperate need for _more_.  He tells me, "You're going to take three fingers, now."

I nod, "Oh, god... please."  I draw a sharp breath when I feel another finger at my entrance. Roan rolls his thumb over my clit as Bellamy slowly buries all three fingers to the hilt. He twists them around and a full-body shudder rolls through me. "Oh, fuck... I- just... fuck."

Bellamy chuckles, "Oh, I'm going to, Princess... Count on it." I can't contain my excited mewl at his promise. Bellamy chuckles and twists his fingers around in my ass again. "I think you're ready for my cock."

I whimper with a frantic nod. "God, I want your cock in my ass... so bad. Please, just do it." I refuse to feel shame for the desperation in my voice when I beg, "Please, put your cock in my ass, and _fuck_ me with it."

Bellamy chokes out, "Jesus fucking christ..." as he removes his fingers. I shudder at the shrinking sensation in the absence of an object to keep me open. After a few moments, I feel the slathering of more lube over the entrance to my ass, followed by the painless insertion of two fingers. "I know you think you want me to just drive into you right now, take your ass hard and fast..." I nod and wiggle gently, just enough to get his attention. He chuckles as he spreads his fingers apart to make a path for lube to enter me. "But we're doing this right, which means we're doing it my way." I shiver at the dribbling liquid inside my sphincter, releasing a full-on groan when he massages his fingers inside me to thoroughly coat my inner walls. He pulls away, and I hear the wet sound of Bellamy slicking up his own cock. 

Roan crooks his fingers inside my cunt again, as if to gently remind me he's still here. My toes curl at the sensation of Bellamy's cock head as it rests against my opening.  _Finally_.

"Ready?" He asks, his voice trembling at the edges with unmistakable lust.

I nod, "Yes, Sir... I'm ready." I feel a steady pressure as he pushes inward against my virgin resistance.  "Fuck..." I close my eyes and just _feel._   He bears forward a bit, then lets up. Push. Release. With an exhale, I sink into a relaxed state while he widens the puckered flesh as he passes through and finally starts to enter me.

I mewl with the stretch, a delicious burn, as the head of his cock finally breaches the tight inner ring of muscle. He releases an appreciative growl while he holds himself there, fingers digging into my hips, the only indication of his struggle to contain himself, to hold back the urge to just take me right here and now. My hand finds its way to his, where it grasps the flesh of my hip. I softly wrap my hand around his wrist, then slide my palm over the back of his hand to interlace our fingers. I look over my shoulder and a bolt of lust hits me as I take in his darkened expression, his eyes fixed on the intersection of our bodies.

"Fuck, Princess... You are so fucking tight." Bellamy's careful control is slipping, but I trust him not to unleash himself on me. Not yet. He asks, "How do you feel?"

I breathe, "Good. I feel really good..." My free hand fists into the sheets into the sheets. "I feel... Opened." He shifts his weight slightly and I gasp, "Fuck... Oh god, like you're opening me up." His hand rubs up and down my spine and I arch my back to meet his touch, mewling when it comes to settle around the curve of my waist. He gives it a gentle squeeze.

"Princess, I'm going to give you more." He tells me, voice low and calm. I nod and my body shudders with anticipation. After a moment, he pushes forward just a bit, then slides back. He repeats the motion, feeding more of his cock into me each time.

My voice shakes, "Oh god." I feel each ridge, every bump and vein of his thick shaft as it slowly, methodically enters me. As he sinks deeper, my body begins to recognize that, unlike the plugs and toys, there is no "narrowed" portion at the base. Being impaled on his shaft will keep me completely open. My body tenses at the thought, Roan meets it with a pleasurable twist of his fingers inside me, squeezing my breast more insistently, drawing my mind and body back to a state of openness.

Finally, Bellamy is buried to the hilt. His pelvis meets the flesh of my ass and finally, he's completely inside of me. In every possible way. I take this time to be still so I can absorb and internalize the warring sensations of exhilaration and tranquility that course through me. He fills me. I feel every one of his heavy breaths with my whole body.

Bellamy's voice brings me to attention. In contrast to its earlier shakiness, he's regained his usual calm and authoritative tone. "Princess, now that my cock is all the way in your tight ass, I'm going to keep it here." He grinds himself into me, slowly, deeply.  "Roan is going to take his hands away."

"Why?" I whimper at the abrupt loss when Roan pulls back.

"Because I want you to concentrate fully on this." He emphasizes his point with another slow grind that can only described as _possessive_. "While I take your ass for the first time, the only thing I want you to feel is my cock inside it." 

Every bit of me trembles, "Yes, Sir." My moan is guttural in a way I've never experienced before. Thrilling in its depth.

"Good girl." He slowly draws back until only the head of his cock is still in me, then pushes back in. My muscles twitch around him as he works himself deep into me. "Fuck, you feel so good." My needy mewls spur him on. "Your ass clings so tight around my cock." My walls contract around him like a reflex and he groans, "God, so fucking tight... Breathe, Princess." His hand slides up my spine, then down my side. "Relax and breathe for me,"  I release a shuddering breath I didn't know I was holding, then draw in a chest full of air. "That's right. Keep breathing." He moves again, "Fuck, your ass is so hot, Princess."

I let go an indecent moan, "Yeah?"

Bellamy huffs while he slowly and steadily strokes in and out, "Fuck, yeah. I mean it's hot, and you look fucking incredible like this." I writhe with his vulgar words, "Your ass is hot _around_ my cock, too. Like, warm. Warmer than your cunt."

I nod, "More blood vessels... Makes it warmer." I'm legitimately impressed with myself for voicing a coherent string of words while I'm about to boil over with lust.

He picks up the pace just a bit, each time pushing against my G-spot from a new, exhilarating angle. The nerve endings surrounding my puckered hole are exquisitely overwhelmed by the movement of Bellamy's cock in and out of me. My breasts ache with need and each movement drags my hard nipples along the sheets. Just the light graze sends currents of pleasure to my deprived clit. As if it's being stroked without even being touched. The jolts of pleasure force a loud, obscene moan from my throat.

"Does that feel good?" He asks.

"Mmmhmm," I manage to moan out, "It's so good."

"You're perfect. You're fucking perfect."

"I need-" I pause, because I'm not sure what I need.

"What do you need? Tell me what you want."

I roll my hips against him, grunting at the brilliant change in angle. "Faster. I need you to go faster." I breathe, "Fuck me."

"You're fucking incredible, you know that?" His delight rings clear in the air as he begins to fuck me properly. And _that's_ exactly what I'm looking for. The faster pace makes my body bounce forward, the slide of the sheets against my nipples is rougher, the sensations to my clit are more and more intense. Deep in my core, a heavy coil of pleasure builds up, my impending climax gains traction.

"Oh my god, I'm close... I think I'm-" His hands grip my body with bruising force while he snaps into me and it's fucking _bliss._ My limbs twitch, my hands slap against the sheets before clawing into them. "Fuck, like that!"

Bellamy grunts, "Like this?" then gives a particularly powerful thrust. My slow-building orgasm shatters me without warning.

"Oh fuck!" Scorching pleasure thrums through my body. The walls of my ass pulsate around his girth while he drives himself deep inside of me. He shifts himself on his knees and the slight movements spark new, intoxicating currents of from the junction of our bodies.

Bellamy wraps his arm around my front and pulls me up so my body is flush against his.  I can feel the thundering beat of his heart against my back. His hand kneads at my breasts, still tingling from contact with the sheets. Roan comes up to mimic the treatment. Before I've fully recovered, Roan sinks a finger, then two into my cunt. He curls them inside me, draws his thumb in circles over my clit and the action renews my orgasm.

My body goes rigid, gripped in pleasure while Bellamy holds me still, his arms firmly wrapped around my torso. A stinging pain blooms from my shoulder where his teeth sink in, his breaths harsh against my sweat-soaked skin. As the rush of orgasm subsides, my head falls back against Bellamy's shoulder. I bring a hand up and pull his thick hair into my fingers.

Bellamy's groan sends tingles through my skin when I scratch my nails against his scalp. "That feels good, Princess."

I nod, dazed, "You're telling me." I rock my hips just a bit and whimper at the feel of his cock, still hard like granite and buried deep in my ass.  "Fuck, you're still hard."

He chuckles, "We're not done, yet, Princess."

I smile, "Is that right?"

I catch sight of Roan stroking himself and can't suppress a lewd growl.

Bellamy brushes his lips over the shell of my ear. "You know, it would be a waste to ignore a cock as beautiful and hard as that one, right?"

I nod, undeniably eager, "We shouldn't waste it."

His hands trail up and down and all over my body. "What should we do about it, Princess?"

I have a pretty damn clear idea of what I'd like to do...

"Should we have him fuck your face?" I tilt my head, as if to think about it. Bellamy asks, "You have another idea?" 

I shrug casually, but my shaky voice defeats my attempt at nonchalance. "Share me?"

Bellamy considers it, "How should we share you?"

Roan works my cunt to catch my attention, "Be specific..."

The words tumble from my lips, "Both of you could fuck me. At the same time." I get a moment of thoughtful silence, like they are trying to get a read on whether or not I'm serious. I give Roan a salacious look. "I know you've thought about it."

I feel Bellamy's delighted grin against my skin, "Now you're talking."

I turn my head so I can see Bellamy, "But will you fuck my ass, still? I just want you there."

Bellamy nods, his palms brushing up and down my sides, "Yeah, Princess." He gestures toward Roan with one hand, "While I take your ass again, he's going to fuck your cunt."

I drop my head back against his shoulder with an indecent moan, "Oh, fuck... Yes." I open my eyes and watch Roan before me. He casually grabs a condom and rolls it onto his hard cock, then sits back on his heels. Bellamy pulls out of me and the sudden emptiness is nearly shocking. He gently guides me forward so that Roan can pull me into his lap. Roan sneaks his hand between my legs. He dips one, then two fingers into my cunt, twists and scissors them inside me while he nibbles at my ear. At the same time, Bellamy drapes my arms over Roan's shoulders, then smoothes his palms up and down my sides.

Bellamy asks Roan, "Is she ready for you?"

He nods, and his sinful voice carries through me, "Oh yeah, she's ready."

Bellamy whispers against my temple, "Okay, Princess. We're gonna sink you down on his cock, now."

"Oh god, _yes..._ " I nod with frantic speed as they both lower my body down on his shaft.

My flesh parts for a cock that is distinctly _not_ Bellamy's, and I'm overcome by a sudden moment of panic. My fingers search frantically for Bellamy's, and relief floods my body when I find them and interlace them together. I squeeze tightly, as if to check in and make sure this is right, this is okay.

Without missing a beat, Bellamy squeezes right back. His breath washes hot over my ear, "Let him in, Princess."

With his command, I relax my body enough to sink down the rest of the way on Roan's cock. Bellamy kneads my achingly sensitive breasts, mercifully avoiding my nipples for now. Soon, Roan's hands take over and mimic the same treatment while Bellamy sits back on his heels. The lid of a bottle snaps again and Bellamy's lubed-up fingers return to my pink rosebud to make sure the passage is still slick and welcoming. I tense up briefly, just on instinct, before willing the tension to leave my body.

Bellamy grunts, "Atta girl, just like that... Relax."

Roan's hands grasp onto my upper thighs and he gives them a squeeze. "Bring your legs around me, little one." One at a time, I wrap my legs around his middle. "Now hold on tight." Suddenly, he rises up to a knees. He hooks his elbows underneath my bent legs, letting my calves dangle to the sides.  I cling to him with my arms wrapped around his neck. The position gives Bellamy perfect access to my ass.

A relieved gasp escapes me at the warmth of Bellamy's chest against my bare back. Bellamy's fingers come back to my ass and he probes me open again. His breath tickles my neck. "God, you're already getting tight again."

I shudder with a nod, "Then you should probably get your cock back in there soon, Sir."

Bellamy spreads his fingers a little wider, "You're right, Princess. Soon. Just hold on." I'm about to ask _why_ but my curiosity is answered by Roan's surprised and satisfied grunts as Bellamy presses his fingers against his cock through the thin walls that separate them. 

"Oh my god," My body tenses with pleasure and surprise. I'm barely able to fathom the deep level of eroticism when I think about the fact that Bellamy is stroking Roan's cock inside of me. _Through_ me...

Bellamy pulls his fingers out, then lines the tip of his cock back up against my ass again. He caresses my sensitive rosebud with his cock head, alternating forward pressure with teasing drags against my flesh as he talks. "Princess, I want you to be aware, this will be an even tighter fit than before."

I nod, "Yes, Sir."

"You might think my cock won't fit this time, but you'll be wrong." His free hand glides all over my body, dancing over the raw nerve endings in my skin. His voice goes low and leaves me feeling hazy. "I'll show you how wrong."

"Yes, Sir."

"Unless you safeword, I'm gonna keep going. Keep filling you. Do you understand?"

I nod, "I understand."

"Good girl." He gives a push-release pattern against my hole until the resistance gives way and his cock head sinks inside.

"Oh, fuck!" I cry, because he wasn't kidding about the tight fit. Not just at my opening, but throughout my entire body.

"You're okay, you're okay." Bellamy reaches between Roan and and rubs gentle circles on the side of my clit, sending wild swirls of pleasure all over me. "Just relax your body for us, Princess." I nod and do as asked, relaxing my ass to let him in.  "That's a good girl. Just keep it like that, okay?" Not an easy ask... He pushes in a little farther, then pulls back again, giving me more of his shaft each time. I feel impossibly full, already. Bellamy pauses after he's part of the way in. "You doing alright?"

I nod, "You can keep going."

He does. It feels like my _entire_ _body_ is making room in some way for Bellamy's invasion as he sinks deeper and deeper, until he's finally all the way in, his body pressed fully against mine. Then they hold me there, pinned tightly between them while they both fill me in a way I never thought possible. I loosen the grip of my arms around Roan's neck, then drop my head back against Bellamy's shoulder, allowing the two of them to support me completely. My heart races with excitement when I take in the reality of being filled with two cocks at once.  My head goes wild with lust while I embrace the sheer depravity of my position.

I experimentally clench myself around them, reveling in the strangled groans from both of the men currently buried deep inside me. My skin lights up with the drag of their lips over my shoulders, up my neck.  With one arm looped around Roan's neck, I reach the other behind me to tangle my fingers in Bellamy's hair and hold him close.

Bellamy's breath is hot against my skin, "You feel so good, Baby."

Roan suckles on my collarbone, growling against my skin, "So fucking good... Your cunt is incredible..." 

Bellamy groans, "Yeah, it fucking is..." He gathers my hair in his hands and holds it out of the way, then sinks his teeth into the back of my neck. It's the perfect sting to draw my attention back to him. He presses a kiss over the bite. "And your ass-" He swivels his hips, just barely, to punctuate his words, "-it's so fucking hot and tight around my cock."

I nod, moaning in lieu of speaking, because I'm pretty sure any attempt at words will be unintelligible.

Roan's lips trail along my jawline as he murmurs, "I can't wait for us to fuck you like this."

Bellamy chuckles behind me, "We're gonna fuck you so good, Princess."

My head nods frantically, "Yes, please, _please!"_

A soft moan escapes me as Bellamy draws his cock back slowly. In my state of heightened sensitivity, I can feel every vein on his shaft as it passes through my opening. He pauses when only his cock head is left inside. As he steadily sinks back in, he tells me, breath hot against my ear, "Princess, you get to come as soon as you want, as many times as you can."

I give a forceful moan in response, digging my fingers into Roan's skin and tightening my grip on Bellamy's wild curls. Bellamy pulls out again, then back in, repeating the motion and setting a slow pace. Then Roan moves. _Fuck, he moves_. As Bellamy pushes in, Roan pulls out. Their movements are slow, controlled, and beautifully coordinated.  Bellamy waits until Roan begins to slowly drive back into me, then withdraws at an equally restrained pace. The pattern of their movements is purposeful, as if to ensure that there is a cock inside me, somewhere, at any given moment. 

Their rigid shafts drag inside me in the best way, the motion pulling at my taint while filling me up in unprecedented ways. My mind struggles to catch up with my body as it adjusts to this novel experience. The competing sensations of impossible fullness and bewildering emptiness send rousing sparks through my pleasure-wracked form.

As they move faster, they keep me pinned in place between them. Restraining my movement, rendering me helpless to do anything but take the pleasure they give, makes the bliss that much more intense. Their skin is hot against mine, slick with sweat in every place we touch. I'm utterly captivated by the incredible sensations of my ass and cunt being fucked together. 

I let go a strangled gasp when Roan sweeps his tongue along the grooves of my collarbones. His ragged breaths scatter over my skin as he dips his tongue deep into the hollow of my throat.

My orgasm builds like wildfire tearing through a dry, thirsty field. Moans sound like sobs as a deep, full-body orgasm begins to stir in my core, decadent pleasure taking shape within me.

Bellamy tugs at my earlobe with his teeth, sending ripples of bliss down my neck and chest, "Fuck, I can feel you getting close, Princess."

I nod, fingers and toes curling tightly in anticipation. The muscles of my abdomen and inner thighs flex and relax in succession, my calves squeeze against my thighs, trapping Roan's elbows behind my knees.

"Fuck, I'm-" I gasp, gulp for air.

Bellamy rumbles, "That's it, come for us, baby."

And just like that, a thick, carnal pleasure tears through the deepest parts of me.

With the rush of blood in my ears, I can barely hear Roan growling, "Fuck, yeah, there you go." I sink my teeth into the meat of his shoulder while shivers of ecstasy scatter from my core to my limbs. As my body seizes around their cocks, they both drive into me as deep as possible and hold there.

"Fuck, Clarke..." Bellamy's fingers glide through my folds, each brush of his fingers over my clit making my body jerk. I can barely register his lewd exclamations about how hard it is as he rolls it between his fingers, drawing out my orgasm so they can truly feel my body take the pleasure they give it.

Their voices are a chorus of praises that surround me like a cloud of lust, "Good girl... feels so fucking good on my cock..." A warm flush radiates all over my skin while I come back around. The men grind slowly into me, and I feel their cocks rub against each other through the wall that separates them.

"Bellamy-" I breathe, clenching myself around them, "You're still hard." I drop my head back against Bellamy's shoulder, "You're both still fucking hard... Are you gonna-" I'm cut off by my own shriek when they thrust up into me in unison with exhilarating force. 

I can hear the grin in Bellamy's voice, "We're going to fuck you, again, Princess."

They do. _Fuck_ , they do. My senses are immersed in _them._ Their cocks filling me in both holes, our breaths fanning heavily over each other's sweat-covered skin. Bellamy shifts his angle slightly and a new burst of pleasure shoots through me. I throw my head back with a rousing moan, turn my face and attach my mouth to Bellamy's neck, savoring the salty taste of his skin. His fingers flinch on my skin as I scrape my teeth over his pounding pulse.

Then it happens.

My vision flickers at the edges, my ears ring, echoes of pleasure bounce through my head. My thoughts become more and more incoherent, like the basic process of _thinking_ becomes an impossible task. All of my senses blend together, while bliss thrums through me, filling my core and melting me from the inside. 

I slip into oblivion _._  

 

* * *

 

[Bellamy]

Clarke's first orgasm nearly sends me over the edge. It's a fucking miracle that I'm able to hold off my climax while I'm buried to the hilt inside her ass. Her whole body pulsates around my cock while she comes, and I can't resist the urge to push her farther. I reach my free hand around her front and sneak my way into her folds.

Roan lets go a filthy _"Oh, fuck"_ in lewd appreciation when my fingers graze the base of his cock, buried in Clarke's spasming cunt. Her whole body jolts when my fingers trip over her engorged clit.

"Fuck, Clarke, you feel that? Your clit is hard as a rock, baby." Her responding mewls make my head spin. She clamps down around us again, and the pleasure is almost blinding. I give Roan a nod and both of us pull back, nearly all the way out of her. One more nod, and we both thrust deep inside, burying ourselves fully into her holes. Sinful little whimpers escape her throat with each of our movements, and my self-control grows more and more tenuous.

With her second orgasm, I can't hold back any longer. The rhythmic clench of her ass around my cock is fucking incredible and drives me to the edge of my own climax. All of my senses converge into a frenzy of pleasure at the base of my cock, building and swelling to the point of no return.

"Fuck!" With an uninhibited shout, my pleasure flares through me and I fucking _erupt_. I don't hold back my groan at the warmth of my own come around my cock as it fills her in spurts.

Roan lets go an wholly satisfied growl as he finally succumbs to his own climax. His cock twitches against mine as he comes, an erotic sensation so intense, I have to bite down on Clarke's shoulder just to keep my head anchored in reality. 

I drop my head forward with a shuddered sigh. Beads of sweat drip down the bridge of my nose and fall onto Clarke's bare shoulder. My mouth closes over her smooth skin, salty against my tongue while her body calms down and the furious clenching of her walls finally begins to weaken.

Clarke begins to slip from Roan's grip, so I press myself harder against her body, pinning her in place between us. Her head rolls forward while strings of nonsensical ramblings fall from her lips.

"Princess, give me your word." I get nothing but a sharp pull on my hair as she clenches around us again, sending a jolt of intense pleasure through me. I check again, "Clarke, baby, open your eyes." Her eyelids flutter partially open and I catch a brief glimpse of her unfocused gaze before they close again. Her moans are incoherent, her muscles lax.

Roan catches on immediately. He picks up one of her hands, raises it in the air and lets go. He marvels at the way it just drops. "Shit, she's in deep."

I huff, "Yeah, she is."

He gives me a nod and supports her tired body so I can pull out. Her ass clings tightly to my cock, the tight ring of muscle firmly constricting my shaft, as if desperate to keep me inside of her. A soft little whimper escapes her as I pull the rest of the way out of her, and I can't resist a quick peek at her ass. 

"Holy fuck, that's hot." I'm gripped by something primal at the sight of my come seeping out of her freshly fucked hole. I straighten back up and draw Clarke's spent body into my arms. She turns her head and nuzzles my chest while Roan and I maneuver her off of him so he can dispose of the condom. With one arm hooked under her knees and the other around her shoulders, I move her to the head of the bed. I lay her down in the middle of the mattress and she settles into the sheets with an sated wiggle.

I softly trace her cheek with my knuckles, then sweep a few fly away hairs from her temple to tuck them behind her ear. She opens her eyes and blinks a few times while she gathers her bearings. Her gaze snaps to mine when I clear my throat.

My heart skips a beat with her soft smile, "Hi, Bell."

I smile back, "Hey, there." She stirs like she's going to sit up so I shake my head as I stop her, "Just rest, Clarke. Lie down."

Roan returns to the bed so I take the opportunity to take care of business, knowing that she's not going to be left alone.

"I'll be right back. Stay close to her." I nod toward Clarke and he slides up the mattress to sit behind her and rests an open palm over the curve of her hip.

When I come back, she's curled on her side, facing my side of the bed. Something clutches on my heart with the knowledge that she's waiting for me to come back to her. Her fingers are laced with his where they wrap over the flare of her waist. Not quite spooning, just maintaining contact. She smiles when I slide into bed and turn on my side so we face each other. I bring my arms around her back and hold her close.

Roan clears his throat, as if to check whether he's welcome here. It's a valid inquiry. Aftercare is a private affair for many people, Clarke and I included. Generally speaking, it would be awkward as hell for someone to lounge on our bed with us during our post-scene recovery **.** However, considering that he was an incremental part of the scene, I feel it's entirely appropriate for him to be here.

It may not have been a physically taxing (read: pain-oriented) scene, but it _was_ a scene. Limits were established and rules were set. To no one's surprise, Clarke tried to get creative to test boundaries, and appropriate discipline was imposed. Just because we didn't push her to a pain threshold doesn't mean that other limits weren't approached. For fucks sake, I just let another man _fuck her._ Yes, it was negotiated beforehand that it would be an acceptable progression of activities, should the occasion arise. But it was still far beyond anything we'd done before.

Aftercare is just as important now as it is for any other scene.

I nod my head, "Stay."

Roan relaxes, "I didn't want to make assumptions." He's got a point. I realize we failed to establish expectations for aftercare. It has always been something Clarke and I play by ear, and it didn't dawn on me to include the specifics in our scene negotiation before. His deference is much appreciated.

"You were literally inside her just now." I add with a chuckle, "Not to mention, _me_ before that. You're good."

He folds a hand behind his head as he settles back into the pillows with a satisfied exhale. We all rest there for a while while soft music plays through the speakers in the wall.

Clarke's body curls against mine while I trail my free hand along her side, over her arm, then finally I cup her face in my palm. Her cheek is soft under my thumb. Her hair sticks stubbornly to the sweat on her forehead. I carefully brush it away from her face while I press soft kisses over her brow bone.

"I love you, Clarke."

Her lips curl into a smile, "I love you, too."

"You did so good tonight, baby. So good." I lay soft kisses in trail over her cheek and down her jaw. Her body comes to life when I reach the corner of her mouth. Without warning, she grasps my face between her hands and slants her mouth over mine, drawing me into a deep, toe-curling kiss. Her tongue feels electric when it first touches mine, but the taste is sweet, like each release I've felt tonight. Her fingers flinch against my scalp with every groan she draws from my throat.

I gasp sharply at the slide of her silky cunt on my skin when she ruts shamelessly against my abdomen. "Fuck, Clarke. you're wet."

She nods with a little squeal and rolls her hips even harder. "Mmm... wanna come again, Bell." Her words are practically slurred, she's so spaced out. Our rule of thumb for clarke in subspace is basically not to deny her anything. Sex is frequently part of our aftercare, but it took me a while to come around to actually fucking her while she's this incoherent. I learned that in her state of heightened emotions, my noble intentions in fact stung like rejection, and she ended up in tears half the time. There is literally nothing in this world I want more than for Clarke to be happy. And if that calls for fucking her while she's in subspace, then so be it...

 She slides a hand between us and wraps it around my cock, but there's no fucking way I'm going to be ready to fuck again any time soon.

I chuckle, "Babe, my cock is done for the night." Before she can pout, I press a quick kiss to her lips. "But let's see what we can do for you, yeah?"

She lets go an excited squeak when I roll her onto her back. Her legs are floppy and fall completely open when I spread her knees apart. Her cunt is flushed, swollen, and quivering for attention.

"Do you want my hands, babe? My mouth?"

She pulls me down on top of her, and whimpers in my ear, "Fingers, Bell. Fuck me with your fingers." Aftercare is about holding her, being close. So, as much as I want to get my mouth back on her cunt and eat her until she passes out, she needs my body close to hers.

"Yes, ma'am," I reply with a grin. My palm travels a sure path down her body, my fingers slip into her wet folds. I slant my mouth over hers and swallow her whimpers while I slide my fingers inside her. "Like that? Is that good?" I ask against her lips. 

She nods, breath catching while I fuck her. She slaps her hand to the mattress at her side and feels around for Roan. She grips onto his wrist and I smirk as she guides his hand to join mine.

Roan gives this growling _mmmhmm_ moan that rattles through both of us while he gathers her juices with his fingers. He brings them to her clit and her body jolts upwards off the bed. She hisses, "Too much!" With a shuddering sigh, "...softer."

Roan draws the hood back over her clit and rubs it gently from the side. "Like this?"

She gives us a drunken smile, "That's better."

I chuckle, "You like that? Me fucking you with my fingers while he plays with your clit?"

She nods, "So much... I like it so much." She pulls my face down into a deep, consuming kiss while Roan descends on her body with his mouth. It's not long before she nears the edge. She lewdly sucks on my tongue while her swollen cunt flutters around my fingers. When I crook them harder against her front walls, she tightens her grip on my hair and gives me a little gasp.

"Come on, let go for us, baby... Come on our hands."

Her body tenses as she peaks, clenching around my fingers with a broken sob. 

"That's it." I kiss her temple, "Just like that..." My lips brush her forehead, "Fuck, I love you."

Her body trembles in gentle waves, giving breathy sighs while we take her through her orgasm. Finally, she loosens her grip on my hair and relaxes the rest of her body while she comes down.

"Love you," She whispers.

I pull my fingers from her cunt and suck them clean with a filthy grin. She makes a purring sound and rolls to her side, drawing my arm over her curled up form so we're spooning. Roan flops tiredly on his back next to her, but leaves her some distance. Clarke won't have that, though. She reaches out and tries to pull him close and he shoots me a questioning eyebrow, as if to confirm it's okay. I give him a nod and he scoots closer. Clarke hugs his arm close, along with mine, and drifts off to sleep almost immediately.

Clarke rests, murmuring something nonsensical every few minutes. Light bounces off the thin layer of sweat on her bare skin and a slight shiver travels through her naked form. Roan brings a sheet over her body and she whispers a quiet _thank you_ for the protection from the slight drafts.

He studies Clarke with open fascination.

"Subspace without pain." He says, "That's new."

I brush my thumbs in circles over her skin, "Yeah. I've never had a sub this susceptible before. Clarke slips under easy with powerful sensory stimulation."

"Even pleasure..." He pauses, "She ever get there with pain?"

I smirk, "Oh, yeah. She's a dyed in the wool masochist. It's been a while since she got there with pleasure alone, but tonight was intense. So I'm not surprised."

"Yeah. _Intense_ is a good word."

My fingers brush along Clarke's arm. "It was good. Really fucking good."

Roan grins at the ceiling, then looks back over at me and Clarke. "It was fucking fantastic." He chuckles, "I'll be honest, this is not what I expected to happen when we ran into each other at the pool."

Clarke gives a lazy hum, "I did."

I press a kiss to her hair, "Look who's awake."

She shakes her head with a smile, eyes still closed. "No, not awake... Just talking."

My lips brush her ear and I grin at the way her body shivers in my arms. "Get some sleep. You had a big night."

"Okay." She turns her head to face me and blinks her eyes into focus. "Thank you. For tonight."

I huff, "Fuck, thank _you_. You were incredible."

Roan makes a noise of agreement and Clarke squeezes his arm, then slides her hand down to his. She laces her fingers with his, then brings them to her lips to press a kiss to his knuckles. "Thank you, too."

He grins at her, "Yeah." He gives her fingers a squeeze, "You, too."

She nods and my heart swells with affection for her beautiful smile when she turns back to me. "I love you, Bell."

I feel like my chest might explode with love for this woman. "I love you, too, Clarke." I kiss the tip of her nose, "So fucking much." 

A happy sound escapes her and she settles back into my arms, then drifts off again. Utterly satisfied, Roan and I follow quickly after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This little exercise in debauchery came to nearly 30k words across the three chapters. You're welcome. ;) 
> 
> I'll be honest, I get personally grossed out by approximately 98% of anal smut. The vocabulary and synonyms for the anal "elements" tend to be... Unattractive, to put it mildly. That's a large part of why this chapter took so long - it takes time to make that into something hot and accessible, and I hope I've done that here. (Again. Classy anal is the goal here.) 
> 
> Again, I'm anxious about reception for this chapter. So, **validation that I haven't lost you guys will be much appreciated!!!** Comments (and kudos) are more important than ever ~ Also, I'm really wanting to know what you think of it. It's a "new" activity for them and so I'm always a little nervous every time I introduce something new to my readers. (I'm working on replies to your comments on the last chapter, so if you haven't gotten one yet, it's coming). 
> 
> The next chapters have some truly obnoxious, cavity-inducing fluff. And feels. And sweetness. And a return of Alex. 
> 
> \-----
> 
> **Aaaaand time for another **KINK PSA****
> 
> You may have noticed that Bellamy and Clarke don't use a condom here. Roan does, because he's not in their fluid bond. Generally speaking, you should use a condom for anal sex, for cleanliness and shit (pun sorta intended). And in most everything I write I'd do that.
> 
> But... they don't use one in this chapter, and the reasoning is very specific.
> 
> For starters, if you're sufficiently "cleaned out" (via good/reg diet and elimination + enema if she wanted) the scat "risk" can be minimal to nonexistent. And we know that Bellamy and Clarke don't have STI concerns. 
> 
> I mention this because there's something to be said for the heightened sensations with anal. In my editing, I realized that there's a really strong emphasis on sensory perception in the boanlarke chapters. More so than any of my others. So, if I was ever going to illustrate the sensations associated with anal sex in detail, this would be the chapter to do it... 
> 
> **Condoms should always be used with non-monogamous relationships, or if STI's exist or might exist,** or where there's concern for scat. Like if there hasn't been time to sufficiently "prepare" for anal. For these chapters (55-57), she has had plenty of prep time. Actually, in the chapter, it became clear that Clarke had plans all along for Bellamy to take her ass that night (our sneaky girl).  
>  Oh, and **never go ass-to-vag. Ever.** I don't care how many pornos you see it in, you're begging for pelvic infection if you do that. (In that regard, condoms are super convenient because all he has to do is remove it (and put a new one on, if applicable) if they want to engage in Vaginal sex after, rather than having to get up to go wash his dick...)
> 
>  
> 
> \-----
> 
> Catch me on [Tumblr](http://missemarissa.tumblr.com) (MissEmarissa)
> 
> \-----
> 
> As always, THANK YOU so much for reading! (Tell me your thoughts below :))


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